


One at a Time

by doughts



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, FTM, M/M, Slow Burn, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2018-09-03 07:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 139,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8702314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doughts/pseuds/doughts
Summary: Dorian never thought much about life outside of how lonely he was, until he rescued Krem from soldiers in Tevinter. Suddenly parties seemed dull, and the power he'd been given more important. Maybe his personal happiness mattered less than making a difference. An AU, what if Dorian rescued Krem instead of Bull.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The rating will probably get moved up.... At some point. Monthly chapter updates, posted on the thirtieth. If I write more, I'll post more.

The wheels of the carriage bumped over the interminable road to the party. Rides with his parents were normally strained with awkward silence. Not this one. This ride, his father decided it would be the perfect time to discuss his marriage prospects. Dorian tried not to sigh as his father started in on a fourth woman. 

He snuck a glance at his mother, noticing her frown. This wasn’t her idea. That made him feel better. She tried to give him an escape route for these things and it would be a pity if that changed. 

“There’s also Elecia. Her magic lends itself toward flame, but it runs strong in her family. Her mother is an enchanter with our circle, works with the youngest students.” Helping his pet cause of improving the Tevinter circles would be points in her favor, Dorian thought to himself.  “Elecia helps, so she’d be very good at raising young mages.” The longer his father talked, the more he felt like a prize mule. At the thought of having children, he barely contained a shudder. That would require certain activities he had no desire for. Well, at least not with women. Magister Halward continued as he willed his diplomatic mask to remain in place.

“I know you miss working with Alexius, but studying by yourself for a while gives you a chance to find a wife. Your mother is so looking forward to grandchildren, after all.” She and Dorian exchanged an amused glance at that. She didn’t regret her life, but she understood why her son would want something different for his. 

“And I appreciate you letting me stay with you until I either find a wife or a new mentor, but for the moment, I want to take this time to round out my studies.” Dorian paused, deciding to use the little leverage he had. 

“Alexius was working on highly specialized magic. Useful, important magic, but highly specialized regardless. I want to round out my studies before I apply for a teaching position at the circle.” He didn’t really want the job. There was no elegance to it, and focusing on the learning of others didn’t appeal to him. 

“So you’ve decided to help my cause to better Tevinter after all? It would mean a great deal to the circle to have a future magister acting as a teacher.” The eagerness in his father’s voice almost made Dorian feel bad. Until he remembered the three women before Elecia. 

“I’ve thought about what you said, how our young mages are an investment. I know the circles want more funds, and if I have first hand experience, it will make me a more effective advocate.” A smile quirked at the corner of his lips. “Besides, magic is something that brings me joy, and being able to give that joy to others has an appeal.” Thank the Maker they were finally at the house. Respite at last. 

One of the footmen opened the door. His father stepped out first, as was proper, lending a hand to his mother. He got out last, trailing behind the two in the same way he’d been doing since he turned sixteen and attended his first dance. Unmarried heir often meant afterthought. 

They were announced, and proceeded across the hall to greet the host. That done, they stood on the side. The crowd around the railing showed that they were fashionably late. Less time to wait. All the better, because his father was talking to him about yet more women. 

He tuned it out, scanning the crowd. Plenty of eligible women. Seeing them, he breathed a sigh of relief. His father couldn’t follow him on to the dance floor, and he knew better than anyone that dances could easily turn into discussions of marriage. It was how his parents met. 

The last family was announced, and the hall cleared for dances. Dorian made his way toward one of his classmates, giving a pointed look when his father tried to follow. He gently touched her elbow, smiling as Filomena turned to greet him. Her auburn hair caught the light as she turned toward him, green eyes glinting with mischief. She didn’t have far to look up to meet his eyes, and her copper skin glowed with her smile. 

“Could I borrow you to escape from my father? He spent the entire ride going on and on about the virtues of an interminable list of women.” She grinned up at him wolfishly. 

“That list would do me more good than you, or does he not know that yet?” She paused. “But I don’t suppose his list mentions whether or not any of these women would admire my figure instead of yours.” He laughed as they spun around the dance floor. Mina never failed to improve his evening. 

“And it is unfortunate that he doesn’t have the names of eligible men. Though I suppose it would be difficult for two men to properly breed a magical child.” He looked over to see his father chatting with a young woman on the edge of the dance floor. A hard knot settled in his gut. “It doesn’t look like he’s done with the evening’s torment. Can I count on you to rescue me when it becomes too tedious?” She frowned slightly.

“I haven’t been able to see my lady in a while and I know she’s due on the dance floor tonight.” She curtsied to him as the dance finished. 

“Alright. I only ask because I even offered to become an instructor at the circle, and he didn’t take the bait and change the subject.” His heart sunk to his toes. He didn’t want to be alone with this. 

“I’ll do what I can,” she said as he kissed her hand. He turned and walked toward his father, dread setting in more strongly as Mina made his way over to her lady. A sweet longing hit him as they embraced. It would be nice to have something like that for himself. 

By reflex, he scanned the dance floor, noting several men that filled out their robes nicely. He saw a look of longing that mirrored his own on a particularly fetching young gentleman when their eyes locked across the dance floor. But his father walked over, leading the young lady he noticed earlier. His longing got tucked behind a diplomatic mask. He hoped he hid it fast enough, and the smile on his face didn’t look as flat as it felt. 

“This is Agatha. She’s a spellweaver from one of the circles in Ferelden. Such a restricted place, I’m glad she’s made her way over here.” He hesitated. “I’m sure with your diverse education, you’ve encountered some of the more unusual magics, and would appreciate hearing about some of hers.” A diverse education was certainly a tactful way to explain away almost a decade of drunken escapades that got him kicked out of one circle after another. 

“Thank you father, I’m sure we’ll have plenty to discuss.” He bowed to her, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor. They made polite small talk, discussing what it was like to weave the magic of several mages together for larger workings. The worst part was the temperaments. 

This didn’t surprise him, considering he’d go mad if he couldn’t leave a tower for months at a time, surrounded by the same old people. Not that his social circle felt different much of the time. His breath caught. It took him effort to finish his sentence without trailing off when his eyes locked with the mage he’d noticed earlier. They were warm and hazel, radiating promises that made his body sing with longing. When the dance ended, he bowed, attempting to drift over to the young man. His father intercepted him, with yet another lovely young lady who looked shapely in her robes. 

All of it  was lost on him. He didn’t care how her hips looked, or what her makeup was like, or what was on her feet. The only thing he cared about, even remotely, was getting away from her for long enough to meet up with the man with burning hazel eyes. But one more dance turned into three, and he could feel the itch burning under his skin. 

Dances and parties like these were the places where people like him could meet and have clandestine encounters in out of the way spaces. It made his heart ache, sometimes, that he couldn’t expect more than this. But he would take what he could get, and if he had to fake interest in one more woman’s cleavage he was going to scream. 

He led his current partner off the floor by her elbow, kissing her on the cheek. The man with the hazel eyes met his gaze, and he looked over to the exit door of the ballroom. He nodded, something small and subtle and his heart was racing in his chest. He was almost to the door. 

Only to have his father come up and talk to him again. 

“Really father, I appreciate the effort you’re going to in order to help me make a good match for myself but I’m tired and it’s warm in here, I was going to get some air.”

“That’s not a problem,” Halward said with a smile. Dorian’s diplomatic mask froze in place. He didn’t like where this was going. “I’ve got a table set up right over here, Agatha mentioned that she would like to talk to you more.” That Dorian doubted. Highly. “There’s wine, and even a little food.” Halward bowed out politely. A crawling feeling came up his skin. Maybe he hadn’t been as discreet as necessary with his encounters.

Nothing he could do about it now but sit and chat. Even though he berated himself every time his eyes drifted away from Agatha’s face, he would catch himself glancing at the men. They looked handsome in their finery. He also noticed his father and Agatha’s mother staring intently at them so he couldn’t excuse himself without hearing about it later. At least Agatha seemed as interested him as he did in her. 

Ten excruciating minutes later, he stood up, mentioning he wanted to get back to dancing. He kissed Agatha’s hand, and was unsurprised to see his father heading over. Five more minutes discussing every aspect of his conversation, and he never wanted to hear Agatha’s name again. Some day he might be willing to put aside his interest in men in favor of a political marriage, but that day seemed very far off. If he ever wanted to. 

That thought did it. He needed out of this dance, right now. Thanks to his father, he couldn’t meet any fetching gentleman and that was why he agreed to come. Telling his father he needed to use the privy, he snuck out the servant’s entrance. Better to walk home than face any more time discussing the  day that would end what little he enjoyed about his life. On the way out, his robes earned him a few curious glances from slaves No one would question him, though. Other magisters had already beaten a need for privacy into them.

He was chilly the instant he stepped out of the house. Not enough to go back. Nothing could make him go back, but enough that he felt foolish for walking. Surely someone could have given him a ride home. Sighing, he summoned a tendril of his power, just enough to warm him up. 

A few steps later, he heard glass break. His dress staff was in his hands and a magical shield was around his body before it hit the ground. Part of him wanted to keep walking, and he almost did until a scream rang out. 

Creeping closer, he looked in the window. There were two men holding down another one, until the man shifted and a torn shirt made it apparent that he… she… had breasts. A third was holding a flail and making lewd gestures. If his rank didn’t protect him, he’d need to be fast with his magic. 

Walking over to the door, he took a deep breath. as he exhaled, he launched force magic off the door. It exploded off its hinges, clipping the man holding the flail in the back. 

"What's going on here?" he said as imperiously as he could. The girl's eyes widened, and she redoubled her efforts to get away. That was unusual for what most people would assume was a rescue. 

"Ah, Altus. We found this... Woman." The man spat on the floor at the word. "Impersonating a man in our army. I'm sure you're familiar with the punishments for such harlots." That explained more than it didn't. 

"Really? I assumed that the punishment was a trial, with the verdict of hanging depending on the results. I didn't think any of those punishments involved torn shirts, flails, and an out of the way house."  As much as he loathed the duties that went with his status, sometimes they were worth it. Like when he watched an army commander turn white at the thought of getting on the wrong side of House Pavus. 

"Uh..." came from one of the other men. A profound silence went across the room. Dorian kept it for several beats, allowing the men to think the worst. 

"Now then," Dorian continued. "I am going to say that this woman has experienced quite enough punishment at your hands. If you want to continue to press charges, feel free to take it up with House Pavus." He walked over to the man holding the young woman."And if you're very lucky , I will forget your faces, and not bring you up on charges." The man dropped her in a hurry, and Dorian stood between her and the men until the two of them made it out of the door. 

“Are you alright?” He held out his cloak as he asked, figuring she would want to preserve either her modesty or her body heat. Instead of taking it, she glared at him. 

“I’m in an abandoned house with a torn shirt because men were trying to kill me. I have no money, no prospects, my family was counting on my pay to get through the winter, and I have no way of changing any of those things. Oh, and now I’m stuck in the same abandoned building with an altus who has unknown motives. Other than that, I’m peach.” She was staring daggers into him, edging toward the door like she was hoping he wouldn’t notice. 

“I can clarify my motives for you. Being someone who’s forced into uncomfortable situations because of defying societal norms, I hate to see it happen to other people.” Much to his surprise, she rolled her eyes. 

“I can definitely see how growing up in a well to do family, never going hungry, and being forced into balls and other societal events might make you uncomfortable.” He opened his mouth to retort to what she was saying, and then paused. Whatever might make him miserable about his life, he’d never been alone in a house with three people trying to kill them. 

“I suppose you’re right. What’s your name?” He started to pull his hand away with his cloak on it but she snatched it out of his hands and put it on. 

“Cremisius.” There was a defiant look on her face as she said it. “But you can call me Krem.” 

“Isn’t that a man’s name?” This was curious. 

“Yes. That’s why I picked it. Men usually have men’s names.” 

“Ah. At least in my experience most men don’t have breasts is all.” Part of him wondered if that was a tactless thing to say. He knew something about assumptions, after all. 

“Yeah, well, I’m not most men.” Krem wrapped the cape around her… himself tighter. Dorian looked the shorter man up and down, noticing the pale skin and dark circles under his eyes. Krem didn’t look like he’d been having an easy time of it. 

“Do you have a plan for what you’re going to do now?” He wanted to get home, but something was keeping him here. Krem seemed so lonely, and small, and Dorian wanted a chance to get to know him. 

“Up until ten minutes ago, my plan was attempt to avoid getting murdered.” Krem paused. “Before I got caught, I was trying to run for a ship, see if I could get out of the country.” Dorian nodded. 

“I can help you. My housekeeper knows most of the smugglers in the area, and I could help you get somewhere safer.” Dorian’s words seemed to make Krem stagger back. 

“Why would you be willing to help me?” 

“Because… oh. Because I believe in a Tevinter where good people who want to serve are allowed to, instead of paying for it with their lives.” Some part of him felt guilty for saying that, because he’d never really cared about gender equality in the army before now. Most of his days were spent thinking about ways to meet other men or practicing his magic. Krem just sighed. 

“Alright. But if you attempt to have your way with me you’ll regret it.” At that, Dorian carefully schooled his face so the smirk wouldn’t roll across it, and started to walk Krem back to his house. Alvina was going to give him hell for this. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late Christmas present for everyone, since I got it done early. I'll start work on chapter 3 and see how far I get. Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, I appreciate it and all of the kudos.

Dorian cautiously approached the manor gate, sighing in relief when he noticed the carriage hadn’t returned yet. Part of him felt bad, wondering if his parents were looking for him. Most of him was just glad they weren’t allowed to ask questions. 

There were guards patrolling the grounds he took care to dodge, not sure if he was worried for Krem’s safety or his own. Not that he believed he could be in any real dangers from his father, but scoldings were never fun. 

It didn’t take long before he and Krem were at the little tailor shop on the grounds. Alma kept a bunk in the back, even when his parents offered her better rooms in the main house. She told his parents it was because she was getting on in years and didn’t like all of the stairs. The real reason was because it was easier for her to continue her smuggling. For the most part, that meant secreting slaves out of the country to freedom and apostates into the country to freedom. 

Dorian explained this to Krem as he knocked. He heard the familiar shuffle of Alvina’s gait before she opened the door. She was short, her head coming up to Krem’s armpits. Her face was wrinkled, dark skin naturally and from her habit of sitting in the sun to sew. Warm brown eyes radiated safety, and Krem relaxed a little when he saw her. Much to Dorian’s surprise, Alvina kissed Krem’s cheek. Her eyes took in the goosebumps on Dorian’s arms and the coat Krem curled around himself. 

“It’s good to see you, though I suspect it’s because things didn’t work out with the army.” Alvina’s voice was pitched low as she ushered them into the shop. There was a table with small chairs around it, and a delicate tea set for the ladies who would come to be fitted. 

“How do you know Krem?” Dorian asked, a hint of jealousy in his voice. Alvina felt more like his mother than his actual mother. It made it hard to realize she had a life outside the household. Even if he’d been roped into many of her adventures in smuggling before. As always, Alvina noticed the jealousy and patted his cheek. 

“I still love you, and not just because you keep offering to buy me my freedom. You’re like a son to be, and that’s part of the reason I never accept your offer. The other being, of course, that it’s convenient for my business ventures.” She paused to look over at Krem. “But how much I tell you about Krem depends on him.” Krem nodded at her, and made a motion for her to continue. 

Alvina had a shrewd look in her eyes as she spoke. She wove a delicate web, surviving in Tevinter as a slave running an illegal business. It worked because she was canny, and never turned down an opportunity to create more contacts. 

“Krem’s father runs a tailoring business that was being undersold by one of the magisters making clothes with slave labor. The business was sinking, and his father was considering selling himself to help support the family.” Alvina paused to give Krem’s hand a squeeze. 

“I told him I wouldn’t be able to find a market for the clothes, but that I knew some people who could get him steady work. I had contacts with army doctors, with people who ran merchant caravans, and a few places where I could get him a job as a servant. He picked the army, and I’m going to have a stern talk with the person I used to set up his examination.” The small frown on Alvina’s face as she talked made Dorian shudder. That frown meant trouble for whoever caused it, and Alvina was capable of a mighty wrath for such a small woman. 

“At any rate,” Alvina started abruptly, her tone warming as she spoke. “What brings you handsome lads here to me tonight?” Krem opened his mouth to reply, but Dorian got there first. 

“I was hoping you’d be able to get Krem out of the country. The army is coming after him for grand treason and…” An awkward pause hung in the air. Everyone in the room knew what happened to women found in the army before they were executed. Krem wasn’t a woman, but the army would still see it that way and no one wanted to talk about it. 

“If you left would your father have to sell himself into slavery to take care of your mother?” Always blunt and to the point, Alvina. Krem hesitated a moment before replying to her. 

“If I could find work in Fereldan or Orlais, I could send money back. But it might be a while before I could arrange something. And there’s always a chance that something could go wrong, or get lost.” Krem’s voice wasn’t shaking as he talked any more, and that warmed Dorian.Somehow he felt more useful here than he had in most of his time since the Circle. Alvina nodded in reply, and Dorian could see the gears turning in her head. 

“It’s not ideal, but if you’re willing to risk it to help your father, I bet Crato would be happy to take you on as a guard. You might need to stay in the grounds of the manor to avoid army folk but it should be safe enough here. Room and board would be included in your wages, and it could give you a chance to shore up some money before getting out of the country.” Alvina rested a hand on Krem’s cheek. “But it would be dangerous. I would like to think I can get you out of the country before you could be hanged, but I don’t want to promise anything.” Krem mulled it over for a few moments. Dorian was torn. On one other hand, the idea of having Krem close was appealing. 

On the other hand, part of him wanted Krem to find a place he could be safe. Tevinter might not ever be that place. He frowned. But there was no guarantee about any of the other nations either, and at least here he could help protect Krem. But in the end, it didn’t matter what he wanted, it mattered what Krem chose. And he could guess what Krem would say. Any man who’d come this far to help his family would scoff at the idea of more danger. It would be admirable if it were less foolish. 

“I’ll stay, if your guard captain will have me,” Krem said after a few moments. 

“If you’re too worried about safety, I can always help take care of your family while you get settled,” Dorian’s more chivalrous instincts replied. 

“I’ve never known an offer like that to come without strings. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll take care of my family myself.” Krem eyed Dorian suspiciously, and Dorian had to wonder what Krem’s other encounters with magisters were like. 

“In that case, you’ll need new clothes.” Dorian pulled a small purse out from under his shirt. Judging by Krem’s wide-eyed look, it was more money than he was used to seeing.

“I know I need a new shirt, but I’ll pay you back.” A slight tremor came back into Krem’s words, and Dorian fought the urge to frown. It might make Krem’s fear worse and that was the last thing he wanted. He couldn’t entirely resist an eye roll, however. He pushed coins into Alvina’s hands. 

“This money won’t make a significant difference in my life, but it will in yours. If it makes you feel better, consider it a birthday present.” Dorian turned to Alvina. “I know you can pull from the house stores, I just don’t want people asking questions. Can you outfit him with good clothes and weapons and still have some left over for your enterprises?” A calculating look flashed across her face, and Dorian could nearly see the numbers. 

“Should be plenty. Would you like me to take him to Crato in the morning? I have a spare bunk in the shop, he should be comfortable for the night.” Alvina bustled around the shop as she talked, pulling out several pairs of plain, sturdy breeches. 

Dorian hesitated. It would be convenient to dump the whole mess on Alvina. There would be less risk of fall out from his family. But that might mean turning into a man who did such things out of habit, someone unwilling to face down hardship to prevent atrocities. Like his father. And that more than anything was what he feared. He shook his head. 

“I’ll want to get some… Assurances from Crato, so I might as well do that when you’re done getting Krem ready.” He walked to the doorway, hesitating on the threshold. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help your enterprises Alvina. I owe you a favor for helping me with this.” Alvina just kissed his cheek and shoved him out the door. 

“I do already, but thank you.” Dorian shook his head at the now closed door and headed up the stairs to his bedroom. He laid down with a smile on his face. For once, he could fall asleep proud of what he accomplished that day. He hadn’t had that since Alexius, and he didn’t realize quite how much he’d been missing it. 

  
  


A small wisp drew Doran out of sleep and he groaned, attempting to wave it away. Mornings were never a thing he enjoyed, but they were worse after a day like yesterday. Somehow he would need to get up and step into his role as Magister’s son. The thought of Krem made it easier for him to swing his legs over the bed and stand. No sense being a useless noble when Krem had no doubt already had a full morning. 

He filled the small sink with a bucket of water left outside by the servants. Slaves, he corrected himself. Alvina was all too keen to correct him on the difference, whatever choices she made. 

After washing his hands and face, he carefully combed his hair and donned the day to day robes of his station. Enough to remind Crato who he was, but not enough to seem intimidating. Better to seem more friendly, he was asking for a favor after all. 

Krem was waiting for him at the front of the manor, and he had to admire Alma’s quick work. He looked smart in studded leather armor, with a mace hung from his belt. Bits of his shirt were visible through the armor. It looked rough but sturdy, typical soldier wear. The armor emphasized Krem’s muscles, and Dorian caught himself before he could get too distracted. He chided himself, no better than the assailants last night to be looking at Krem like that. 

“I’m glad Alvina could get you geared up in time for this. Crato is busy, but mornings before it’s time to rouse the guards for training are usually free.” Dorian looked Krem up and down again. “Is leather army issue? I know it can be cheaper than chainmail or plate, but I don’t like the idea of our soldiers going into battle with so little protection.” Krem made a face at that. 

“It isn’t, but it is what I prefer. I like being able to be more mobile. I find my aim improves.” Krem hesitated, politely covering a yawn with his hand. “Besides, Alvina figured it would make it harder for people to recognize me as army if it came down to it.” There was an awkward pause as Dorian couldn’t think of anything comforting to say. Not really much to say after several people you thought were comrades attempted to rape you, he figured. Krem was shifting nervously on his feet, hand resting intermittently on the handle of his mace.

“I’ll take you to Crato then, shall I?” Dorian instinctively reached out for Krem’s arm before he remembered that it would be odd for two men to walk arm in arm. Sometimes the fact that he didn't have many male friends showed in the oddest ways. His arm half extended, he turned and walked toward the guardhouse, hoping it didn’t seem like he viewed Krem as a woman. 

The guardhouse was impressive for the size of the manor. It would be disproportionate, except for the fact that Minrathos had become part of an initiative to help lower army costs. Essentially, in exchange for housing and training troops, Magisters would get their pick of recruits for the civil guard. There was a complicated system where it meant that they didn’t need to pay property taxes. It was all very complicated, and Dorian paid as little attention to it as he could.

He explained the system to Krem, and was startled when Krem laughed. Funny, apparently, that he would be training army recruits even though he wasn’t allowed in the army. Krem commented that it would be less dangerous, and  Dorian couldn’t tell if Krem was grateful, or regretting that the army wouldn’t take him. He knew he felt better knowing Krem would have less dangerous work. That made him frown. Quite a lot of investment for only having known the man for less than a day. 

The rest of the walk across the grounds was spent in silence. Dorian awkward and brooding, Krem nervous. It was a relief to get to the guardhouse door, even if it made both of them more nervous. Crato opened the door on the first knock, as usual. 

“Alvina told me that you have a new recruit for me.” Crato was not a man of many questions, instead looking Krem up and down, noting the muscular build and stance designed for balance. Krem had to tilt his head back to look Crato in the eye, but not by much. Crato was also covered in scars, skin tan and wrinkled from days spent out in the sun. His face said he’d seen things, and the rest of him wasn’t any less scarred. “Interesting choice, a mace. Why pick it?” Krem smiled, relaxing for the first time Dorian had seen. 

“ell, I figure serving in Tevinter a mace is a good choice against abominations and corpses. It’s hard to make bodies work with broken bones but anything not alive can ignore arrows.” Krem paused, giving Crato an appraising look before he continued. “And a mace doesn’t require as much tending as a blade. It can batter people, whether or not you have a whetstone.” 

“May I see it” Crato asked as he extended his hand. Krem unhooked his mace from his belt, and handed it over. Crato turned and gave it a few experimental swings, nodding in approval. “Good call on the metal handle. That can blunt a sword edge.” He held the mace up, noting the large hand guard. “Come go a few rounds with me, I’ll see if you’re fit to help me teach these army brats.” 

Crato rested his hand on the hilt of his sword as he led them over to a practice field. It was square, a fence outlining a space smaller than most dance floors. It looked like there would still be plenty of room for sparring, if the churned mud was any indication. 

“We go to the pretend death, fight as dirty as you want. Dirty keeps a man alive in Seheron, and that’s the first thing I need to beat into my recruits.” Crato drew his sword, standing at the ready. He handed Krem back his mace, paused to let the younger man stack a stance, and lunged forward. 

From there, the whole fight was a blur. Arms moved, and steel ringing on steel was loud enough to disorient him. Crato was amazingly nimble for his age, managing to duck out of the way from most of Krem’s blows. Until Krem grabbed Crato’s sword arm at the wrist, spun Crato to the ground, and landed with his knee firmly planted in Crato’s crotch. 

“Well done, Crato said, sounding slightly winded. “Let’s go again.” Krem helped him up and Crato swung out as soon as he was steady. Krem looked slightly startled but he ducked the blow, circling warily. This match, Krem hung back more, trying to gauge more about Crato. He guessed. Sword fighting wasn’t something he knew a lot about. The match lasted much longer, until Krem bullrushed forward, ramming the hilt of his weapon toward Crato’s head. Krem came out grinning, until Crato rushed him again. 

Krem spent most of that round on the defensive, never able to stand still and put together a defense. Crato flicked his sword hand, twisted, and Krem’s mace flew out of his hand. Crato grinned. “And that’s the advantage of the sword, complicated maintenance aside. Use your legs more, get to where you need to be, and it won’t be an advantage any more.” Krem nodded, his heart seeming to sink into his feet at the loss. 

“Thank you for the advice. And thank you for letting me try for the post,” Krem said as he turned to walk away. 

“Now hold on a minute. You can have the post. You take it to heart when I say to fight dirty, and you know how to use your size as an advantage. Army brats could learn something from you, and I think I can too,” Crato finished. Krem’s face lit up. “You’ll get the same pay as everyone else, and it’s no good negotiating because Minrathous decides such things. You can stay on the grounds if you like and I’ll get you set up shortly and show you where to get your meals. Krem was still beaming as Dorian pulled Crato to the side. 

“Please let me know if anyone comes looking for him, and don’t tell my father I recommended him,” Dorian said as he slid three gold coins into Crato’s palm. Crato’s eyes widened. “And thank you,” Dorian said as he closed Crato’s fingers around the coins. Crato nodded, motioning Krem over as Dorian turned to go back to the tower. Somehow spells would seem boring after rescuing Krem last night. He looked over his shoulder to see Crato leading Krem through the steps of some move. It made his heart ache to see the easy camaraderie so quickly developed between fighting men. The more rational part of his brain told him that not risking his life to fight was worth not having friends.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been having health issues out the butt, so if the future chapters are late that's why. I'm doing my best to stay on top of everything, and I hope you enjoy Chapter 3.

Dorian felt around his desk for the small pieces of paper he’d been using to mark pages. He frowned he came up empty. Notes would result in less paper waste at this point, even if he loathed the idea of ink being near his books. Especially books this new. Teaching books weren’t exactly something he’d had lying around. There was more to it than he’d expected at first, and the challenge was intriguing. He didn’t just need to know the magic, he needed to be able to explain it to someone else. 

Lack of a challenge was part of what prompted him to actually pursue becoming a teacher, aside from his father, so it was a good thing. But the magic wasn’t the part that had him frowning over books. He’d never been good with people. He was always too blunt. Sure, he could be diplomatic and make small talk at parties but that didn’t make for someone he’d want to be around. 

Alexius, on the other hand, had managed to take a child who loathed everything about the circle and turn him into a model pupil. He snorted to himself. Okay, maybe not a model pupil. But certainly a good one. Maybe good wasn’t the right word either. Enthusiastic, perhaps. Someone curious, who wanted to learn about magic. A wave of longing rolled over him. Alexius would know how to help him. Would’ve been pleased to see his pupil share what he’d been taught. 

Except that now Alexius had no time for anything but researching cures for Felix. Including writing Dorian. He’d sent several letters, all with no reply. Felix sent letters, talking about how he was worried for his father, so clearly the problem wasn’t with his courier. 

It made him feel… Lost. He’d spent the past two years living with Alexius. There was always more work and magic to try. Which explained why he was clinging to the idea of being a teacher, despite his fears of permanently damaging students. It was something to do that wasn’t getting married. 

He caught himself staring out the window as his mind wandered. The clear view of the practice field for the soldiers gave him an idea. Morale was important to soldiers, was more emphasized. Maybe that could help him learn how to draw people to magic, and show them what was beautiful about it. A pang crossed his chest when he thought about Krem. He felt guilty for not going to go check on the man, but he didn’t want to anger his father. Better to stay inside with his books and see if he could find any on military training. 

Even if he longed to leave the room, he could grieve in private for the life he wanted for himself and the life he had when he was with Alexius. And the shelves in his tower never got annoyed with him. He sighed and stood up to get a quill, shifting his book to the far corner of his desk to avoid the ink. 

.  .  .

 

Dorian swore as he reached into the candle flame with his magic and it exploded. Wax drippings thudded wetly into the canvas he’d thrown over the bookcases. His day wasn’t going very well. Not that it was unusual for him to struggle with the techniques taught to young mages. It was only more frustrating because the evidence of his failure covered the entire room. Andraste, he’d forgotten how much he hated this particular exercise. 

The goal was to put the candle flame out with magic. It sounded simple, and he’d laughed when the instructors first told him about it. But it was a lesson. Power had to go somewhere, and the powers brought from the fade were difficult to control. 

The most common result of a failure, as he’d been reminded repeatedly, was that the candle would explode. Sometimes students would try to turn the flame into energy and end up with minor burns. It never took the instructors long to put the flame out when the demonstrated it to students, but he couldn’t remember what they did. A knock on the door halted his thoughts in their tracks. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like who was on the other side of the door. 

When he threw the door open his father was on the other side. Sometimes it would be nice to be wrong. The look of distaste on his father’s face almost made him close the door until he remembered he was covered in wax of varying shades. Nothing quite like a healthy dose of embarrassment to turn him into a youth expecting a scolding. 

“I was going to offer you an invitation to the Circle dance tonight but I’m not sure you could make yourself presentable in time,” Magister Pavus said, eyes moving up and down to fully take in Dorian’s appearance. Suddenly his appearance felt more like revenge. 

“That’s quite alright father. After the last dance I find myself quite reluctant to attend another one.” Dorian made sure his diplomat’s smile was the only expression on his face. “I appreciate that you want to help me become an instructor, but I feel like a dinner would give the circle enchanters a better chance to get to know me.” Smile still firmly in place, he shut the door and then sagged against it, his heart pounding hard enough to feel it in his fingers and toes. 

He hoped there wouldn’t be repercussions from that, but it was always hard to tell with Magister Pavus. At the same time, he would rather spend the evening exploding every candle in Tevinter than to face another dance. The thought made him feel like he couldn’t breathe. 

An idea hit him, and he launched himself to his feet. He set up another candle, carefully lit a flame with the rod he kept on hand, and took a stance. A deep breath later, he erected a small bubble of force around the flame, and it went out. 

As a student, it had taken him much longer to guess the solution, and at the time he thought it cheating. Now, he could see how something like this could be useful. Magical problem solving wasn’t about trying to control massive amounts of power most of the time, it was learning how to do more with less force. With a sigh of satisfaction, he went to go find a slave to see if he could clean the wax off. Nothing was more satisfying than ending the day on a solved puzzle. 

 

. . . 

A few days later, another knock on the door jolted Dorian out of his book. Strange that something as tedious as the applications of fire vs lightning could be so gripping. The basics lost their shine while he was working on bigger projects. But it was coming back the more he read. Maybe if he could remember the love he had for this magic, it would inspire the same love from his students. He shook his head. A question for another time with a visitor at the door. He pulled the door open to reveal his father. Two visits from Magister Pavus in one week. It would be heartwarming if it wasn’t terrifying. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” his father said lightly, with a soft smile. Was his father trying to make a joke about the wax he was covered in last time? He’d admittedly been a sight. 

“No, just a book. What can I do for you?” He kept a hand on the door, mostly in the room. No need to make him feel welcome. 

“You told me you would be open to sitting down to dinner with the head enchanter. I’ve arranged something here for the day after tomorrow if you are still interested.” His father’s weight shifted slightly from foot to foot. Was he actually nervous? Then the words sunk in. He took a step back and opened the door. 

“I mean, yes, I’m interested, of course I am. I’m just surprised that you actually arranged it.” The minute the words left his mouth he regretted it. No sense picking over a fight over his father actually respecting his choices. Thankfully, his father shrugged. 

“Who am I to argue if you want better something I’ve spent my life supporting.” There was a hint of artificiality behind Magister Pavus’ smile that settled in long after his biting remark passed.  Teaching might not be what his father needed to get more political capital, and it might not be exactly what would make Dorian happy, but maybe it could meet both of them somewhere in the middle. 

 

. . . 

 

Dorian checked that his belt was on his robes correctly for the third time. His heart rate was high for something he started off unsure about. It certainly mattered to him now. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to take a deep breath. All he had to do was make these people believe in his enthusiasm. He made eye contact with himself in the mirror. Even if he was afraid of damaging these young minds. Even if he needed to warm up to the idea of being on call for students all of the time. He had a passion for magic and wanted to inspire students, and that was what he needed to remember. 

Besides, it was nice to get something other than criticism from his father. He touched his fair, took a deep breath and headed down the stairs of his tower. Despite his nerves, some part of him was looking forward to this. There weren’t a lot of conversation options when most of his days were spent in the tower. 

When he got to the door of the dining room, he resisted the urge to wipe his hands on his robe. Narrowly. He took another deep breath and strode into the room. The small table there was tastefully decorated with a bouquet in the shape of the circle crest. A few candles were on the table, but none were on the walls or ceiling. 

The goal seemed to be giving the room an intimate feel, but it missed somewhat. It looked like someone was planning a romantic dinner, only heightened by the two place settings. Odd, considering the first enchanter and his father were talking, both wearing the formal robes of their order. Much to his surprise, the first enchanter lit up as Dorian walked over. 

“Dorian!” he said as he stuck out his hand to shake. “I was so pleased to hear from your father. We’ve been in need of a new instructor for some time.” The smile was very disconcerting. This was not what he was expecting. 

“I will leave you two to what matters then,” Magister Pavus said as he turned and left the room. Out of all of the things he expected tonight, that wasn’t one of them. 

“Did you ask him to do that?” Dorian said as he attempted to pick his jaw up off the floor. Then he realized what he was saying and nearly kicked himself. Clearly not being around people was making it difficult for him to control his tongue. Thankfully, the first enchanter laughed.

“No, though I understand your surprise. Your father can hide many things. Ambition isn’t one of them.” The enchanter patted him on the shoulder. “But there’s one thing he values more than ambition and that’s the Circle. He might encourage you to go for the post, but if you were unfit, he’d try to find other prospects for you.” Dorian wasn’t sure what startled him more, the fact that his father would hold something more dear than power or the first enchanter’s easy air with him. So different from being a pupil in trouble. 

“But let’s sit and eat,” the enchanter said as me moved to sit down. “I did not come to gossip about your father and I never miss a chance to eat the food here. I would love to steal your cook for the Circle but she doesn’t like cooking for crowds.” 

“Of course Enchanter,” Dorian replied as he took his seat, still slightly in a daze. It still took him by surprise to be treated as an adult, even though he reached the age of majority the first year he lived with Alexius. 

“Oh, call me Colin. I might be here for business, but I can certainly enjoy it.” A mischievous look passed across his face, and Dorian felt dread settle into his stomach. All of his transgressions went running through his head. A slave brought in food, and Colin asked his first question to the sound of clinking china. 

“I was more than a little surprised to hear from your father about you, but I was also surprised when Alexius picked you to be his student and apprentice. You never had much regard for the circle until him, what made you change your mind?” Colin alternated taking bites and sipping his wine between sentences. Some of the words came out muffled because of this, and Dorian tried not to stare. How could this man bounce so easily from an imposing teacher and a carefree dinner guest? He shook his head at himself, and reminded himself to answer the question. 

“Alexius, actually. He taught me to be curious about magic, and to love its study,” Dorian relaxed back in his chair, food entirely forgotten. “And I want to pass that on to other students.” A shadow came across his face. “I’ve felt adrift since he’s focusing on family, rather than publishing research. He doesn’t talk to me, not really, and this is what I can think of to honor his legacy, and respect the tragedy of what happened with his family.” He felt his voice crack, and was thankful when he noticed there was a water glass next to the wine goblet. The last thing he needed was liquor. He took a sip as Colin replied. 

“I see. It was a tragedy, what happened, and we’ve lost a great mind in magic. I’ve been sending him letters and haven’t gotten replies myself, and I worry too. I think it’s kind of you to want to honor him.” Colin drank some more wine. “What would make you want to give up potential research and take up teaching? I know you have a lot of curiosity and worked well with Alexius.” Dorian nodded before answering. 

“It’s lonely. I spend most of my time alone, and I miss people.” He hesitated. That wouldn’t be seen as a good reason. “And I find myself drawn to the idea of getting to share my books and knowledge. Like I said, I want to inspire the same passion for magic that Alexius inspired with me.” 

“I remember you being particular with your books, and not terribly inclined to share them,” Colin said jovially as he mopped up what was left on his plate. Of course the man would use this as a chance to bring up all of his youthful indiscretions. 

“I like to think I’ve outgrown that. Especially books for students, those are never terribly valuable or rare. Plus they’re designed to get mauled, that’s why they use a sturdier paper…” He trailed off, not sure if he was proving his point or not. A twinkle in Colin’s eye made him feel like he still had hope. 

“Other than your experience with Alexius, have you been preparing to become a better teacher?” Now that Colin was done eating, it was eerie to be stared at so directly when being asked these questions. 

“Yes, actually. I’ve been trying to do as much reading as I can for a few months. It’s enlightening to be able to read the teacher copies of textbooks, and to see the methodology behind certain traditions. And it’s fairly amazing how much becomes instinctive after years of practice.” Dorian was almost vibrating with excitement now. New knowledge was excellent, no matter what it was about. 

“In particular, I’ve been focusing on creative thought and how to teach students to protect their minds in the fade. I figure it’s more important to teach adaptability and critical thinking  than a few set techniques. Obviously there’s still a place for technique…” Dorian trailed off again as he realized he was babbling. Colin simply smiled in reply. 

“Don’t worry about it, enthusiasm is something we appreciate in candidates. In a slightly more awkward direction, have you picked out a match for yourself yet?” Colin was continuing to sip out of his goblet, and Dorian tried not to squirm. 

“No, is that a problem?” A hard note of anger showed up in Dorian’s voice. This was not a question he was expecting to come up in an interview for a teaching position. Why was marriage all anyone could ever think of? 

“Not at all, actually. The reason we need this particular position filled is because one of our enchanters went off to get married for her house. Not being married or having a match is an asset with us, because we know that we’ll have your undivided attention and loyalty.” There was a knowing smile on Colin’s face as he spoke. Did everyone know he didn’t want to get married?

“But as you know, this decision will come down to a vote with all of the enchanters. I will need to talk to them, and we’ll figure out who our best candidate will be.” Colin stood up, and Dorian stood with him. They parted on a handshake. “Thank your father for dinner for me,” Colin said as he exited. Dorian nearly melted from relief. He sat down to his dinner, having eaten almost none of it from nerves. At least the hard part was over. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> February didn't have a 30th so I think this is getting to you on the first. Here you are, and hey, Krem's back :)

Letters were starting to go out about the teaching position and Dorian was driving the steward mad. For two reasons, now that he knew no one else had heard from Alexius either. Every day, Dorian would ask Donovan if there were any new letters, and he would be told that there weren’t any, and when there were, they would be delivered by the staff as soon as they arrived. By the second day, it became an emphatic promise. 

Not that it mattered. Dorian would thank Donovan and come back the next day anyway. The time he asked always varied, because he would get drawn into his studies, so he usually needed to find the man somewhere on the grounds. After a week, Dorian began to suspect that Donovan was actively trying to avoid him. 

This went on for another week before something came in. Donovan delivered the letter early in the morning, before Dorian had gotten a chance to pester. As Donovan left, he shut the door rather firmly behind him, and there were echoes of disgruntled rumblings coming up the stairwell. 

It was from the circle and he couldn’t tell if he was more relieved or disappointed. Relief because he would know about the teaching position. Disappointment because this letter would never mean as much to him as one from Alexius. Part of him wanted the teaching job. Part of him wanted to go to Alexius’ house and pound on the door until the man let him in. 

Ten minutes passed before he realized he should open the letter if he wanted to know the contents. All he could think about were lists. Lists of books he wanted to get for himself, lists of friends he could ask about Alexius, of all of the ways he disappointed his father. Part of him wanted to burn the letter, decline the teaching job, and devote the rest of his life to pulling Alexius out of his funk .But that would go firmly on the last list, and that wasn’t what he wanted right now. He forced himself to open the letter. 

It was brief, though written by the first enchanter. They were going with another candidate. Not entirely a surprise all things considered. He called up a small tendril of flame, just enough to burn the letter. The ash hit the floor as he looked around the room. Continuing Alexius’ research sounded more practical than trying to stage a break in, and it wouldn’t take much to turn this room into something for a different sort of research. 

He would need a table separate from his desk for working with lyrium. The bookshelves would need sturdier covers, and he’d need to put up wards. But that would be easy enough to do. 

The tricky part would be getting some of the tomes. If Alexius would write him back he could see about borrowing some of the tomes. That was a very large if, and the man might cling to them as a hope for saving Felix. A visit to Alvina was in order then, unless he wanted to spend weeks combing the bookstores in the city for what he needed. 

Alvina had the added benefit of being cheaper, because although he had money saved up, research stipends were never large enough. Especially if what he was researching was unrelated to defense and the war. His father might be willing to help, but he might grumble about him needing a real job or a rich wife. Alvina’s lunch hour wasn’t too far away, he could go down there soon. The idea honestly excited him, more than a teaching position ever would. That, at least, was a relief. 

 

. . . 

 

As much as he wanted to tear down the stairs, he forced himself not to. It was nice to have a burning passion again, but it wasn’t worth being undignified. Even as he was cursing himself for choosing the tallest tower, because he wanted to get his hands on books right now. For the last twenty steps he couldn't restrain himself. He bolted down them, slowing only when he heard voices. No need to give the slaves something odd to report to his father. 

As he knocked on Alvina’s door, he couldn’t help bouncing up and down slightly. New books, new ideas, new research. All his, if he could figure out how to put it together. A few doubts swirled around his head, but he added books on experiments to the list in his head and they quieted down. He might not have conducted research on his own before, but he could combine what he knew with books and it would be fine. 

When Alvina opened the door, he darted in to give her a hug. Then froze as he saw Krem sitting at the table she used to show customers dress sketches. 

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to intrude,” he said as he turned to face Krem. The young man was practically glowing. He filled out his blue shirt, no doubt purchased with his salar. His face looked slightly less rounded, as if it had been moved to some of the muscles in his arms. Dorian blinked and looked down as he realized he was staring. 

“That’s alright. I’m due back at the barracks.” Krem reached down and picked up the chest piece and shoulders for his armor. With the ease of long practice, he started buckling them into place. 

“No, no, I’m sure you can stay for whatever Dorian wanted to talk to me about.” Alvina trod on his toes as she spoke, giving him a pointed look. 

“Oh yes, that would be fine. I just wanted to talk to her about tracking down some books.” Dorian moved his face into something he hoped looked less bewildered than he felt. Why Alvina would insist Krem stay he could only wonder. “I can’t guarantee it will be interesting but it isn’t private.” It could be, if other mages wanted to get their hands on his research. Seeing as most mages thought he and Alexius were just his side of sane and Krem looked at him like he hung the moon, it seemed unlikely. 

Not to mention that he wanted broad books on research techniques and contamination. No one would be able to figure out what he was doing. Including himself, for a while. 

“Do you have a list for me?” Alvina called out from the kitchen as she made up his plate. He glanced down at the table and noticed Krem barely touched his lunch. Oh. Him staying made much more sense now. Then what Alvina said actually registered. 

“No, only the one in my head.” Rash, if not entirely uncommon, for him to forget. Alvina kissed his head as she set a plate with chicken and potatoes in front of him. She shuffled off, and the noises of her opening and shutting a drawer were easy to hear in the silence. It was awkward until Alvina came back with charcoal and paper. She sat at the table as she started to talk.

“Here you are dear. Try to remember I’m not a mind reader next time.” They both know he wouldn’t. And the reason she was asking was that it would take a while. Alvina could read and write just fine, but this was Tevinter and it was illegal for slaves to be literate.  She devised a code based on dress patterns for people requesting particular goods. 

The shoulders and sleeves would be shaped to describe what type of item, and the skirts could be used to hide any number of letters. The longer the title of the book, the more elaborate the dress, and mages were infamous blowhards. It didn’t help that he hadn’t done this in a while, and the cipher was taking a long time to recover. Some part of his brain realized that Krem and Alvina kept talking as he stumbled through sketching, but it felt distant. 

Fifteen minutes passed before he finished his patterns. He handed the sketches to Alvina. She looked them over before sliding them into one of her books and taking the dishes to the kitchen. It took him that long to notice Krem staring at him, out of the corner of his eye. It was subtle as far as such things went. Dorian was just used to noticing attention. All different people were. When he looked back at Krem, he was expecting the soldier to turn away, and act like he wasn’t staring. To his surprise, Krem faced him. 

“How have you been doing?” Krem asked. The question hung in the air and Krem looked down as soon as the words left his mouth. Dorian was puzzled as to why, until he remembered that soporati were often punished for something as simple as a conversation. Krem’s experience had no doubt been worse than most. 

“I’ve been alright. Studying magic in my tower mostly,” Dorian replied. There was another awkward pause as Krem seemed to struggle with what to say. He could hear noises off in the shop kitchen as Alvina started washing the dishes from lunch. 

“You haven’t gotten in any trouble for taking me on, have you?” Krem fidgeted awkward as he spoke. Even now he worried about his debts. 

“Don’t worry, I like trouble,” Dorian replied, feeling a pang as he thought of Felix. A sad smile ghosted across his face. “But in all seriousness, no. My father hasn’t noticed, thankfully. I apologize for not coming to see how you were doing. I didn’t want to jeopardize your job because my father thought I was too friendly.” As he finished, Krem smiled. It was small, but definitely there. 

“Good. I got worried when I didn’t see you.” Krem’s posture relaxed more as he realized Dorian wouldn’t eat him. Or yell. It was a nice change, because he was used to inspiring fear. In all of the muck and mire of the last year, taking in Krem was something that shone. One good, uncomplicated thing in a year of pain and misery. 

“Even if I had, it would be worth it,” Dorian said. He was surprised to learn he meant it, though his surprise didn’t show. Unlike Krem’s slight jump. 

“But why? You didn’t know who I was before you stormed into the tavern.” He fidgeted before finishing his thought, as though he was waiting for Dorian to interrupt. Dorian wouldn’t. There were some things he could be patient for, contrary to popular belief. “I’ve never known ANY mages to care about the soporati, let alone an altus. Especially when it comes to convenience or personal hassle.” 

“I’d rather be in trouble with my father than know I left your father to be sold into slavery and you to be raped and hanged.” He sighed. “I like to pretend I live in a country where those sorts of things don’t happen. Alvina reminds me that they do, and I have the power to change that. I just didn’t see an opportunity before I inherited my father’s seat until I stumbled into…” He cut himself off. They both new, and he’d already brought it up once. Krem’s face lit up. Not the reaction he’d been expecting from that revelation. 

“I’ve always been curious about magic but it’s hard to know what’s true. The Fereldan Chantry seems to think possession is common, and all mages are just disasters waiting to happen.” Krem paused, taking a deep breath before he continued. “And Tevinter mages think magic makes someone more suited to rule. What’s actually true?” Despite how eager he was to ask his questions, Krem seemed relieved when Dorian smiled. Some things took a while to get used to. Like a mage who didn’t mind questions. 

“As with most things, it’s somewhere in the middle. Demons try very hard to possess people. Sometimes they’re sneaky about it, using the mage’s ideas and personality against them. And sometimes they try to do it by force. I was thirteen when a desire demon took the guise of a boy about my age. We ate grapes, until I wouldn’t let him possess me.” There was a look of alarm on Krem’s face. 

“Demons try to possess children?” 

“Er…” Dorian paused. Possession was something he’d been aware of from the time he was a small child, to the point where he’d forgotten it would sound appalling to someone who hadn’t grown up a mage. “Yes. In Tevinter, we learn how to avoid it as religiously as we learn the Chant. Sometimes more so.” 

“Isn’t it scary growing up like that? I can’t imagine being told something like that at a young age.” Krem’s face shifted into a look of horror as realization fully hit him. “Doe that mean that children are responsible for not turning into abominations?” Krem’s voice steadily increased in volume as he talked, to the point Alvina poked her head around the corner. Dorian waved her off, hoping he could handle how jittery Krem was getting. He smiled at Krem, doing his best to keep his body language relaxed. Krem looked ready to get up and start pacing. 

“It’s one of the reasons the Fereldan circle tries to find mages when they’re young, and why Tevinter families keep such a careful eye on their children.” Despite Dorian’s efforts, Krem still looked close to leaping out of his seat. “For the most part though, demons get in when there’s an especially powerful emotion.” A dark look drifted across his face. “The only child abomination I’ve ever heard of in all of the years I’ve been a member of the circle was a young girl. Her father sexually abused her, and when a demon told her they could make it stop, she said yes.” Where Krem’s rage was hot and firey, Dorian’s was cold. He continued, even as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was accompanied by the usual flash of magical power and demons whispering that they could offer him so much more. 

“Part of what the Fereldan circle tries to do is protect the children in its care so situations like that don’t happen. People are scared of mages, and if people try to hurt the children…” Dorian paused, noticing Krem’s discomfort. Krem tensed up every time there was a mention of hurting children. So he was the sort of person who cared, even if the children in question were mages. Dorian continued. 

“The best result would be the young mage loses control of their powers and damages buildings and sometimes people. Not very much, because they don’t know what they’re doing. Worst, they get so scared they turn into an abomination. Personally, I think we have the right of it.” As he finished, he tried to make his tone light, and Krem smiled in reply. Arrogant mage, it seemed to say good naturedly. 

“Yeah, but we’ve got plenty of other problems to worry about.” Krem sighed and some of the tension left his body. Some of the reassurance worked, at least. “Being a mage sounds very different than how I imagine. All of the novels make it seem romantic, and like there’s nothing but debauchery and wine.” 

“What sort of novels are you reading?” Dorian replied with unrestrained delight. Krem blushed as he realized what he admitted. “I feel like I would enjoy them.” Dorian couldn’t resist adding a hint of flirt to his tone, and was even more delighted when Krem’s blush deepened. 

“They were my mother’s,” he mumbled as he put his face in his hands.

“Oh I’m sure they were.” The smile felt odd on his face, but in the best way possible. Enjoyment of something, that he wasn’t faking for the sake of someone else. It had been too long since he had company this engaging. Maybe he needed to start leaving his tower more often, even if parties were an obstacle course of eligible women he didn’t want to marry. “Do you ever read less tawdry novels?” Krem’s face, which was finally starting to return to a normal color, flushed again. 

“Uh, yes. My father always read me Tethras novels until my mother told him they were giving me nightmares. They didn’t, but I think she was hoping to avoid talking to me about some of the more colorful parts of his books. I like most books, when I get time to read them.” This was the best news he’d had all day. He mentioned a few titles, and he and Krem bounced them back and forth, discussing the finer points for about half an hour. 

Eventually, Alvina poked her head out of the kitchen, a smile on her face because two of her charges were enjoying themselves under her roof. 

“Krem, i just wanted to let you know that the captain will start assembling the men soon.” At Alvina’s words, Krem shot to his feet. 

“Thank you for lunch, it was lovely as always.” Krem turned to face Dorian again, and bowed. “And thank you, again. I appreciate the job here, and I sleep better knowing I can take care of my parents.” Krem buckled on his armor as he bolted out the door, and was gone before Dorian could reply. His mouth was hanging open. He’d never been thanked so thoroughly before. Then again, he hadn’t done much worthy of thanks until this point either. No wonder Alvina couldn’t give up her work. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the rating change! I figured it would be happening soon, and don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. This update is on time by some miracle, but I'm having issues with severe carpal tunnel and typing seems to be one of the worst things I can do. Further warning that future chapter updates might be late. That said, thank you for reading!

It seemed to be taking an age for Alvina to track down his books. It had only been a few days, and logically he knew it would take at least a month. He just couldn’t get anything interesting done research wise until he had the books. For now, it was a matter of warding circles and how not to touch alchemical reactions. Most of which he already knew, spell safety being something they were fairly big on in the Circle. Just worth a review when he was going to be working with darkspawn blood, and he didn’t want to get the blight. It was just BORING. 

Admittedly, most of his peers would think the more dense textbooks on the scientific process were equally dull and boring, but he liked them. And the more he read on experiment safety, the more his mind drifted back to his conversation with Krem. He thought about different novels he’d enjoyed, and wondered if the young soldier had ever gotten to read any of them. 

After a fourth title crossed his mind in one day, he stood up and walked over to his bookshelf. He thumbed over some of the spines of the books, remembering his favorites. Some part of him was contemplating lending them to Krem. It wasn’t something that would usually occur to him. Books were precious, and he trusted few people enough to take care of them. Mage friends could afford their own versions if they were determined enough to talk to him about them. 

Startling to realize it had never really mattered before. Living in the Circle tower, books were an escape and a way to be alone. Now, talking about them meant he wasn’t alone in his tower. Strange that he could ever get enough solitude. Not that he’d been given a chance before. 

His eyes caught the title of Aveline's story. The print on the spine was inlaid with gold, so it reflected the light from his candles. Krem wasn’t a woman pretending to be a man, but her story still made him think of Krem. Maybe there were books about men like Krem. 

After all, there were plenty of romances between two men scattered throughout his shelves. Alvina would probably know of them, but he was already waiting on her for his own books. He also didn’t want to question why he wanted to get Krem books, and Alvina definitely would. Maybe if he left now, he could come home with something today. Niche booksellers were convenient like that, and it was only two in the afternoon. 

 

**. . .**

 

The place looked as respectable from the inside as it did the outside. It was a squat, ugly building that had probably been painted once a hundred years ago. Bookshelves took up every square inch of space, making it difficult to navigate, and the dim lighting made it difficult to read. All of this contributed to people not wanting to linger. Despite this, the store was infamous among students. Books sold there often introduced young mages to sex. All kinds of sex, if you were curious enough, and knew what to ask for. 

It wasn’t a fond memory, the day he asked the old and wizened proprietor if there were books where men kissed other men. Kissing was all he was comfortable enough to ask about, but he was rewarded with some of his favorite books on the subject. Kissing in all sorts of places, even. One book had no sex, simply humanized the part of him that loved men. This book was the reason he came to talk to Mory. 

The wizened proprietor hadn’t changed much. His unevenly trimmed beard and enormous amounts of ear hair were still there, even if he was more wrinkled and the hair was more white than grey. His nose was thin, and widely spaced, pale blue eyes made him seem not entirely present. All the better to mumble the parts of yourself that shamed you and have them healed with the right book. A strange sort of calling, buried in dirty rumors, but hiding in plain sight was something Dorian appreciated as an adult. No one wanted to shut down the dirty book shop the way they might want to shut down the shop where men who loved men and women who loved women could find a place to be included. 

“Hello Mory,” Dorian said, and Mory’s face lit up. Okay, his eyebrows raised a small fraction and the corners of his mouth twitched up slightly. This was a man famous for not reacting. Not surprising, considering he’d spent his entire adult life perfecting it. 

“Dorian. What can I do for you?” He spoke in his usual slow way, but there was a hint of warmth in the tone. Dorian came by often, and made conversation. Seeing as most people saw Mory as the handler of lewd books, they didn’t tend to do the same. Just the misfits and those looking to feel less isolated in a world where breeding was the most important thing. 

“So…” He hesitated, not entirely sure how to describe what he was looking for. “I have a friend. He’s a man, but when he was born, everyone thought he was a woman. Do you have any books about people like that?” A slow smile spread across Mory’s face. 

“I’m one of them, actually. I have a special shelf.” Mory shuffled off, and Dorian wondered about the beard. Krem didn’t have one, but this was Tevinter and magic could perform a wide array of changes to the human body. Or it could be a fake beard pasted on. That might explain why it never seemed to change. Not that he would be tactless enough to ask. He’d faced enough invasive questions about his love life to not want to push them on anyone. That, and whether the beard was grown on Mory’s face or not, it was real enough to him and that was good enough for Dorian. Mory came shuffling back with a small stack of books. The first one seemed to be a how to guide and was titled “So You Don’t Look Male: How to Change That.” 

“I have one for people who are female but people thought otherwise. Maevaris helped me write it.” Dorian nodded as he recognized the name of one of the most famous mages. She wasn’t a high rank because of the scandal of her gender, but everyone knew who she was. He’d forgotten about her, and made a note to approach her later. On the off chance he needed a favor for Krem, and also because she would probably be sympathetic to the plans he had to make Tevinter a more welcoming place. 

“I wrote this one myself before I had it published. I hope it helps him.” Mory offered a slow blink as he looked at the prices written on the inside covers of the books. Dorian was stunned.

“You published these? How many have you sold?” He figured it was less tactless than how many people like you are there. He felt ignorant for thinking Maevaris was a one off trend. 

“Oh, I sell one every month or so. Sometimes I’ll sell copies to actors or theater companies.” Mory’s eyes crinkled up at the edges slightly. “I don’t personally know most of them, if that’s where you’re going.” Dorian closed his mouth. Sometimes people heard the question he wasn’t asking and he needed to remember that. 

“How much do I owe you?” Dorian asked. Mory had his hands clamped over the books so he couldn’t take them and check the covers himself. Which meant that the number Mory was about to tell him was much lower than the actual price. He never liked to charge full price to his freaks and misfits. Which was fine, if they were starving students, but he wasn’t a student, he wasn’t starving, and publishing 

“Thirty silvers,” Mory told him with his best  _ this man has a strange fetish I need to not shame him for _ face. 

“Ah, there you are,” Dorian said as he handed over two gold pieces. Mory made a pretense of handing back one of the gold pieces and trying to give him change for the other until Dorian gave him a look. The change went back in the box, and Dorian walked out with his books. He hoped Krem liked them. 

 

**. . .**

He’d gotten a peek at the small pamphlet on top, but he was curious about the other two books. Part of him wanted to give Krem shiny, unused books. Part of him was curious and wanted to read the books before he passed them on. Knowing himself, he probably wouldn’t damage the books. One reading wouldn’t make much of a difference. So he set the bag on his desk, and pulled out what looked like a novel. 

The cover was thick paper, not leather like more expensive books. Most of Mory’s were like that. The title was “Of Men and Mercy,” and it was blue. Pictures were unusual because it was difficult to replicate them for multiple covers, but this one had a sketch of a man with bandages around his chest. Knowing that paper covers got creases more easily, Dorian opened the book carefully. It meant reading at an angle, as he always did for books with paper covers, but they were always worth it, especially if it meant leaving them undamaged. 

He’d never heard of the author, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the book went quickly. It was fascinating to be dropped into the mind of someone so different. Sure, liking men might make him an anomaly, but he’d never felt uncomfortable as a man. Never even thought to question his comfort. It fit, somehow, and Charlene, or Charlemagne as he preferred to be called, felt the same way. 

It was difficult to read about the way he would start fights or hurt himself just to get the anger out. Part of him wondered if Krem’s body carried any self inflicted scars. The idea horrified him. Alcohol could be similar, he supposed, it just seemed less harsh than taking a dagger to his skin. 

When Charlemagne got to the point where he was allowed to train as a knight, these instances went down. When he got angry, he beat his body into submission. The extra muscle made his body feel more like a home. Lady knights were given corsets to make wearing plate armor easier, and he got to cut his hair short. After all, most enemies would go for hair first, and helmets did no good if hair made them easier to knock off. 

When he finished his years as a squire and got fitted for his own set of plate, he looked in the mirror and saw himself for the first time. This was exactly who he was supposed to be. Dorian would be a liar if he said he hadn’t teared up at that. 

Getting picked to be a guard for the empress was one of the proudest moments of Charlemagne’s life. Until he met the captain of the guard. He was somewhat old fashioned, and believed women shouldn’t fight. Charlemagne narrowly resisted growling out that it was a good thing he wasn’t a woman then. He didn’t, for two reasons. One, women could fight just as well as men. No point in defending himself only to throw an entire gender under the bus. For two, a man who everyone thought was a woman wouldn’t go over well. And he didn’t want the first person he told to be someone more old fashioned than his father. 

Their relationship continued in a similar vein, with Charlemagne being assigned every piece of scut work. He inventoried armor, inspected swords, and served every inconvenient watch shift, only to wake up early to drill recruits. It was tiring certainly, but he’d done worse things to pave his way. The part that chafed was an inability to go into town as himself. 

Sure, it took a magical disguise he bought from a tranquil for two months pay, but he could go to a tavern and be a man. Sadly the disguise wasn’t good enough for sex. But he could flirt, and it changed his face, not his body. So waitresses complimented him, it was HIM, and it meant something to him. 

But he worked late, woke up early. Slept in the afternoon in order to make up for it. So there was only time for Charlene, and her dedication to the empress. Usually it wouldn’t take long before people to realize they couldn’t break him, but after three months, he was getting tired. Three more months went by in a blur of work, sleep, and more work before his temper began to fray.

He started to snap at recruits for minor infractions, grunted monosyllabic words at his shift mates. Didn’t say anything to anyone else. His teeth ground in his sleep, and jumped at small noises. Which was why he whirled, sword drawn when he heard footsteps behind him. Another guard approached with a mug of something. 

They chatted for a few minutes. It was common practice, apparently, for the captain to do this to all female recruits. Enough of the other guards hated it, so they would commonly trade shifts. The only reason they hadn’t talked to him about it yet was because the female guards usually came to them. Charlemagne was instantly charmed by the new guard, that he would be so considerate about something. 

And so the next months progressed. When he no longer needed to spend so much time working nights, he got a chance to go into town as himself. Only to have the adorable guard, whose name was Matty, come over and flirt with him. Charlemagne knew he liked both men and women, but it was still embarrassing when he felt himself gush at one of Matty’s smile. 

That was around the time Dorian felt himself get hard. Difficult not to watching the chemistry unfold, even if he was terrified Matty would react poorly upon hearing about Charlemagne. He needn’t have worried, as Matty started to become more flirty towards Charlene at the same time. When Charlemagne explained, Matty just smiled, said he spent so much time staring at his arms that he figured it out quickly. Which just made Charlemagne blush. Dorian too, when he thought about Krem’s shoulders and how often his eyes ended up there. Matty also added that the spark he felt towards Charlene made more sense, seeing as he usually only liked men. 

Their romance was a joy to watch, even if Dorian felt hard and impatient as they continued to not have sex. They built up slowly as Matty learned how make Charl (an adorable nickname he came up with when he didn’t want to call his boyfriend Charlene knowing he hated it) feel comfortable and male in the act of touching. 

Then, for Charl’s birthday, Matty managed to find a metal penis, and a leather harness. Charlemagne got to fuck his boyfriend, and before Dorian realized what he was doing, his dick was out of his robes and in his hand. How amazing to find someone who was willing to learn your needs, to go to such lengths to see to your comfort. 

He came all over the book, barely biting back a scream. There was cum…  _ on the book. _ The book which he bought intending to give to Krem. Which he had been reading very carefully in order to prevent bending the spine. Somehow keeping the spine intact seemed less important now that there was cum on it. He slammed it down, cracking it open to wipe off as much as he could. There was still a telltale stain on the paper and he groaned as he tucked himself into his robes. 

The book was his now. Maybe he could get another copy from Mory. But Mory might ask why he needed one, and even if he lied, he would blush. Mory would know for sure that he wanted to keep a book about having sex with men like Mory. The man wouldn’t judge, certainly, but it was still embarrassing. 

Why, why did he do something so derogatory to something as precious as a book? He knew better, and never let his cock get that far ahead of his brain. What was he going to do? He could drop off the rest of the books with Krem while the men were on the field, and not have to look him in the eye. Hurriedly, he stuffed the book in between two long and dense books about demon safety. 

No one ever read those if they could help it. 

**. . .**

 

One of the books he sent Alvina for finally came in. And he couldn’t keep his mind on it. Admittedly, high level cross contamination that involved making sure potion vials were adequately sterilized wasn’t interesting, but it was important. Important became interesting to him, or at least it would let him pay attention enough to take notes. 

Now he found himself writing things like “firm ass” or “guard rotation” instead of “glove thickness” or “washing process.” More embarrassing than being completely unable to focus on anything, he would find himself hard through various points of the day. Thankfully, he almost never left his tower, so it wasn’t like anyone ever noticed. He groaned to himself as he set aside his research books. Again. This was becoming a disturbing habit. 

He pulled the book off the shelf, opening it to a few pages below the scene he was looking for. IT was the same scene, even after two weeks. At least he managed not to have an orgasm over the book. He left his cock in his robes, and hoped no one would question the odd stains on the inside. It chafed, somewhat, but he felt like it was a just punishment for not being able to get this particular scene out of his mind. Maybe if it hurt enough, he could get back to research. Not that it had happened yet. ‘

As always, the scene transported him. Sure, the act was attractive, but it was the intimacy that did it for him. Here were two people who knew one another, worked together. They shared a life, and Dorian always found it touching Matty knew exactly what to get his partner. 

Finally soft again, he went back to his research. Many of his peers said study could cure his particular problem, but he never found that to be the case. It just made it difficult for him to process information, and focus enough to remember what he was reading. It would probably be easier for him to lose it in class, but it had never happened. 

After a scant ten minutes, there was a knock at the door. He sighed, resenting the interruption as much as he was grateful the knock hadn’t come earlier. His dick was impinging on his efforts enough, he didn’t need help. Much to his surprise, Krem was on the other side of the door. 

“I know I should’ve said something sooner after you left the books in my quarters, but I was so excited to read them I forgot to say thank you.” Krem looked so eager as he was speaking. Dorian smiled and welcomed him in. 

“I dropped them off myself so that no one else could see the titles.” Krem had a small room in the back of Crato’s house. He’d left a small note saying all yours, enjoy. 

“I figured you would be careful.” Krem bounced awkwardly on his feet for a moment. “Where did you find those books? I’ve never met anyone like me before, never even heard of them, so to find books…” The look of wonder on Krem’s face made the two gold pieces worth it, and made him think guiltily of the book on the shelf. 

“I know a man who runs a bookstore in town, he's like you. I went to him because he’s gotten me books about two men being together, and if anyone would know…” Dorian figured he’d leave out the part about it being a bookstore that mostly sold books about sex. Judging by Krem’s narrowed eyes, he might know anyway. Mory’s place was somewhat infamous for that.

“I especially liked the book on how to look more male. It included some exercises I wasn’t already doing for soldiering.” Dorian noticed Krem’s shoulders seemed broader, and a few of the leather pieces looked new because of it. A bell rang, and Krem sighed. “I need to head back now, but I wanted to thank you for the books.” 

“You’re very welcome,” Dorian said as he shut the door behind Krem. Only to notice that he was hard again. Usually it took him a few hours before he was even capable, what was going on with him? 

Thinking about it, it had been what probably amounted to a year and a half since the last time he’d had sex with someone. The party his father ruined had been his first chance since working with Alexius. 

It had been a few months since that disaster, his father probably knew better by now. And even if there was no sex, a night of dancing seemed preferable to a night of half attended reading and wanking that chafed. Hopefully the conversation with his father wouldn’t be too awkward. He sighed. But first he should probably take care of his erection. 

Again. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's... barely on time but I made it. Lucky you guys, there's another thousand words than usual this month. My adventures with health issues and carpal tunnel continue, but it looks like I can still keep posting on time. Thanks as always for reading.

The conversation with his father was less awkward than he expected it to be. Of course he could come to the party, he said, he’d been telling everyone that his son was overseas, touring Ferelden. Which would only hold up so long, unless Magister Pavus wanted to cause a diplomatic incident. 

Even the carriage ride to the party wasn’t horrible. Dorian politely inquired about Magisterium business, and actually paid attention to the answers. His father politely asked questions about his research, nodding politely even if it was too esoteric to make sense to anyone but Dorian. Possibly Alexius. The whole thing was rather pleasant, if somewhat tense. 

They arrived fashionably late, partially because his mother wanted to wait until Alvina put the finishing touches on her new dress. The lateness was out of character, because Magister Pavus preferred to arrive in time to watch the rest of the houses get announced. He could deduce a lot from it, and while House Pavus wasn’t the most powerful, it was one of the better informed. Dorian frowned, wondering if Alvina had something to do with that. Either way, the information could finesse situations before resorting to any of the shadowy things that Halward spit upon. 

It was a philosophy he was beginning to respect. Which is why he spent the first two hours of the party dancing with ladies from as many different houses as he could. Worth it to curry favor with his father and more leverage in the battle about his match. 

But he could only take so much before he needed a quiet place to regroup. He excused himself from his current partner, and ducked out of one of the side doors. It was quiet, and there was a bench nearby. There often were at these parties, as a place for a quiet discussion or breathing room. Not that it was private, if the listening enchantment on the bench was anything to go by. It was simplistic, but well hidden. Easily blocked by a grown mage, invisible to the younger ones. A chaperone of sorts then. 

A blast of noise hit him as the door to the ballroom swung open. A man stumbled out, looking as dazed as he felt. He shook his head and leaned against the wall, not noticing Dorian. There was something adorable in the way he let his guard down. Adorable, and familiar considering he was doing the same thing himself. 

“It is getting rather warm in there isn’t it?” Dorian asked. The man jumped, diplomatic mask sliding into place. 

“Yes. I needed to step out for some air.” He looked unnerved, and Dorian softened. 

“Me too. These dances all get stuffy.” Time to see if he was reading the man correctly. “All of them seem to be stuffy in the same way, but I find the right company makes it more pleasant.” It was vague enough that no one would take offense, but he’d used similar lines often enough to know that men who liked other men would hear it for what it was.  
A smile lit up the man’s face, always a pleasant surprise. Dorian appreciated his strong nose and broad jaw while longing to run his fingers through the man’s long black hair.  
“I’m Dorian.” He introduced himself as he scooted over to make room on the bench. His dick was already twitching in anticipation and he hoped it wasn’t noticeable. 

“I’m Tobias,” the man offered in return. Unless he missed his guess, Tobias was a few years younger than him. He was also wearing Altus robes, though Dorian didn’t recognize the house, which meant it was either very small or newly formed. 

“I’m guessing you’ve gone on from the tower to your first apprenticeship?” Dorian asked. Even if his dick was eager to get on with things, he wanted to get to know Tobias more before it happened. How uncomfortable otherwise. 

“Yes. I graduated a year ago, I’ve been working so hard for so long that this is the first party my mother allowed me to attend.” A rueful smile crossed his face. Dorian knew that smile. He’d worn it a few times. “Her invitation mentioned that it was high time I got my nose out of books and made a match.” That startled a laugh out of Dorian, and Tobias looked hurt until he explained. 

“I only laugh because my mother told me the same thing, almost word for word. Almost made me want to go back to working under a harsh task master. It would be worth it to get myself out of a few parties.” Dorian noticed the slightly wary look on Tobias’ face as he looked Dorian up and down. Almost like he was trying to guess Dorian’s age. Of course he’d encountered some of the predatory men that hunted both at parties and at the tower. All older, all wanting youth and to take.

“I was three years into my apprenticeship when my instructor needed to excuse himself to take care of his family.” That was what he told people who didn’t know the full story, and it wasn’t like Alexius contested it. “I’ve been finishing my studies through books until I can find someone else.” That would place he and Tobias on more even footing.  
He’d known his fair share of those old been, been seduced by one or two before he realized he deserved better. Another striking difference between him and those men, if Tobias wanted nothing more than conversation, he wouldn’t wheedle. No was no, and he understood talking wouldn’t change that. 

“Ah, I don’t know that I like books enough to be able to do that. My master and I have been developing healing spells, and my favorite part is meeting all of the people we help.” Tobias set a hand on Dorian’s knee, high enough to insinuate something. So it was to be more than conversation after all.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it,” Dorian replied as he grabbed Tobias’ hand. Funny how ritualistic these meetings could be. He stood up, leading Tobias around the hallway until he encountered a closet he viewed with some fondness. This wasn’t his first hurried encounter in it, nor was was it likely to be the last. It was fumbling and short, Tobias already hard and eager under his robes. Dorian pulled his dick into his mouth, bobbing up and down only a couple of times before Tobias spilled in his mouth. It was disappointing, but considering his dick pulsed in reply, he would have no room to talk. Tobias used his mouth in return. 

Awkward and chafing to use hands with no oil, and wouldn’t that be suspicious if someone found it. Dorian lasted longer, holding out until Tobias slid the entire length of his cock into his throat. He pumped a few more times, keeping his groan of pleasure quiet, but loud enough for Tobias to hear.  
Tobias smiled and squeezed his hand, fixing his robes before ducking out of the closet. He did the same, making sure there were no telltale stains on his face or robes. His hair was mussed slightly, but that was easily fixed. He tucked his dick back into his robes, a burning urge gone for the first time in a month. A few more moments to seem less suspicious, and he headed back to the ballroom. 

He got a knowing, if not entirely judgmental look from his father, but he didn’t care. The encounter got him through the rest of the dance. Flirting was easier to mean while he was happy, and he got a smile from his father when someone inquired more about a match. There would need to be endlessly more talks, but she seemed a lovely woman. Common sense, a strong gift, and progressive views he would need for his ally in the Magisterium. 

If she were a man she would be who he wanted for a match. But if she were a man, she couldn’t be a political match and wasn’t that his entire problem. And then Krem crossed his mind, shoulders broad and outlined by armor. And maybe she wouldn’t be his first choice. Not that Krem had shown the slightest interest in men. 

. . . 

The steward ran a letter up to him and actually smiled as he left. Not continuing to pester the man seemed to have some reward to it after all. And the letters did seem to be getting to him just as quickly. The man didn’t get to where he was by forgetting important correspondence after all. Maybe it was a sign that patience was something he was learning. It was being forced on him, but the skill was appreciated however it came to him.  
His day brightened more when he noticed the letter was from Felix. Not as good as getting a letter from Alexius in terms of making him worry less, but just as good for making him feel less isolated. Felix as the only person outside of Alvina who knew about Krem. Not the everyone thought he was a woman part. That wasn’t his to share. But the man, and what he meant to Dorian. 

He desperately wished Felix was closer, because having a physical ear might make it easier to figure out his feelings. And how to hide them better perhaps. A letter would have to do, but he should actually read Felix’s letter before fantasizing about his own reply.  
Some of the news was good. There were medicines that were easing his pain, and making some of the pull easier to bear. He could still hear some of the whispers, but he could also function. Magic was out of the question, so he’d been spending his days reading, and sneaking out to go to the pub. He got caught by his father more often than not, his father being the utter worrier he was. 

But it was a life, and a decent one at that. Which was better than it had been, near the end of Dorian living there. The lack of a life was what caused the fight that led to Dorian leaving. He told Alexius that they weren’t making progress, and that instead of working himself to death in a lab, he should be spending what time his son had left with him. Alexius went cold, calling him a coward and a quitter, ordering him to pack his bags. Not even Felix’s pleas could get Alexius to change his mind, so Dorian had left. And worried. 

Along the more worrying, Alexius was starting to consult with less and less savory mages. It was where the last round of meds came from, but some of them had been hounded by rumors of blood magic. It made sense, he supposed. Taint was in the blood, after all. Felix was concerned his father might be tried for treason. Dorian frowned. Alexius blamed himself for working instead of being with his family during the darkspawn attack, but trying to save Felix with blood magic was suicidal at best.  
And his letters to Alexius were getting through. The Steward was under orders to burn them as soon as they arrived. Petty, but an effective message. Felix was still allowed to write, because Alexius didn’t like to deny him what happiness he could find, and so few people would write him letters any more. No one wanted to get attached to the boy dying of darkspawn taint. 

Felix ended his letters the same way he always did. With a plea to write back soon. A small note after his signature asked about Krem.  
So Dorian wrote. He talked about going to the bookshop, and the wonder of Mory’s store. He mentioned eating lunch with Krem and Alvina, and that he’d lent Krem some of his books once Krem finished the ones from Mory’s shop. Felix would understand the significance of that, considering he was never allowed to so much as touch any of them. However, he left out the part about ruining a book. If Felix found out, he would never hear the end of it. Never. 

. . . 

Dorian was both hungry and lonely, which explained his desire to eat lunch with Alvina. Sure a slave could run lunch up as usual but it never was as tasty. He pondered. And maybe Alvina could tell him something about Alexius. As much as hearing from Felix helped his worries, she might be able to tell him more about the shadowy figures he was meeting with. 

He headed downstairs, swinging by the kitchen to let them know he wouldn’t need lunch. His slave reported to Alvina when he didn’t the last time and he got quite an earful. They were already property, no need for him to make their lives harder was something he heard from her quite a lot. Alvina had been shaping him to treat slaves with dignity from birth, and he didn’t know if his parents asked that of her or if that was something she snuck by him. 

It occurred to him that this might be part of the reason she chose to be a slave. She could influence households with the masters being none the wiser. Most of the slaves in this house were probably part of her network, now that he thought about it. And probably several in others, all focused on making Tevinter a better place and eventually ending slavery. He shook his head as he knocked on her door. The less he knew about her part in this, the safer her network would be. 

Alvina answered with her usual smile and hug, welcoming him in. He could hear Krem asking who was at the door, and he immediately warmed. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. 

“I was hoping I might join you for lunch. And don’t worry I informed my house slave of my plans.” Dorian was proud of remembering and hoped Alvina would be too.

“Of course you’re always welcome. I trust you won’t attempt to shoo Krem away this time?” she asked pointedly. She never was one for missing an opportunity to better his character. 

“No, no, I’m excited to see him actually.” He caught himself, noting how bright his tone was. Might’ve been better to not say anything. But this was Alvina after all, she wouldn’t hold any affection he had for Krem against him. 

“Okay, I’ll make you a plate,” she said as she led Dorian back. Much like Mory, Alvina made her living off of blank and diplomatic expressions, so he had no idea if she noticed his almost admission. If she did, she would keep it to herself unless it was relevant to one of her enterprises. And he wouldn’t imagine his… Whatever this was could affect Tevinter in any profound way. 

Krem smiled when he saw Dorian, to the point that Dorian missed everything Alvina was saying. A similar smile popped up on his own face, and a warmth built in his belly he immediately tamped down. 

“I wanted to join Alvina, but it’s good to see you,” Dorian said as he took a seat. 

“It’s good to see you too,” Krem replied. “I've been borrowing books from Crato. Most of them are terrible, but I’ve enjoyed reading them. Our books were one of the first things my family sold when my father’s business started to struggle, and I’ve missed reading.” 

“That makes sense, I imagine that Crato wouldn’t have the most refined taste. But if I had been separated from the written word for too long I wouldn’t mind too much either.” He might still need to be pretty desperate to read anything from Varric Tethras, but he would do it after long enough. Books were life. 

Alvina came out with his his food, then sat down with them. She was working on dress sketches while they ate. He couldn’t tell if it was cipher or actual work, not being up on gown fashion. They looked relatively simple, so it could go either way. The only way to really tell would be to decode them, and he had more interesting things to do right now. 

“But I’ll check my collection, see if I can lend you anything more that would be better. Just take care of them, and we’ll be fine, I’m picky about books.” One book in his collection would think otherwise, but Dorian tamped thoughts of that one down. 

“I think that’s something I can do.” Krem bounced slightly, the plate in front of him half full. So the visit would probably be shorter this time, if Krem was eating at the same speed. “I’ve been taking good care of the ones you’ve gotten me, even if I’ve read one of them at least three times.” 

“That’s good, I got them for you to enjoy them.” Dorian paused. “The last time we talked about magic and I answered some questions you had for me. This time I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about what it’s like to be a soldier.” 

“That would be fine. I haven’t done too much in the way of actual fighting. I wasn’t in long enough for that, but I’ve done plenty of training.” Krem kept eating as he talked, pausing to finish chewing. Dorian was pleasantly surprised to notice that Krem took care not to talk with food in his mouth. Many of the people he encountered didn’t have the same habits, and it made him wonder about Krem’s mother. 

“Does the training hurt? I know mage training can cause headaches and burns until young mages get ahold of their powers. And I know people get sore from too much physical activity. So is soldier training like that?” It might’ve been a stupid question. It probably was a stupid question, but mages weren’t exactly encouraged to socialize with guards. 

“It depends. Crato’s pretty good to his recruits. Training bruises are unavoidable and exercise makes you sore, but he won’t beat you for infractions. Some army commanders will, thinking it will make troops more obedient, but from what other soldiers say that isn’t the case. It just spreads dissent.” Krem contemplated. “It’s interesting that your family has Crato considering everyone else in the army thinks punishment like that works, and you seem to be the sort of person who despises unfair treatment of people, if my being here is any indication. Your parents must not be very typical mages.” 

“To be honest, that might have more to do with Alvina than my parents. It’s true they can be less harsh than most but that is at least partially her influence.” Dorian’s statement startled a laugh out of Alvina. 

“No, Dorian, there you have it backwards. I chose your parents because they were less harsh and more caring. Here were people who would give me the freedom I needed. Nowhere was that more clear with them than when they asked me if they wanted to buy me from my old masters. They asked a slave what she wanted, and that made an impression.” Alvina looked up from her sketch. 

“They know about some of my enterprises, and wanted to give me more room to work with fewer conditions. They didn’t want to find out about anything I was doing, and none of my enterprises were to be against them. More to the point, none of my business has needed to be against them. Just remember that boy, when they mess up as parents often do. But don’t let me interrupt your conversation.” Which really made Dorian curious, but when Alvina had that resolute look on her face, she wouldn’t budge. Clearly she didn’t intend to say more on the subject. 

“But my parents have never believed much in physical punishment, so it’s possible they tracked Crato down for that reason.” That and he had been on the wrong side of nobles a few times, not that that was Dorian’s to tell. He wouldn’t be likely to report House Pavus for any of its eccentricities, or not following all of the laws to the letter. That was worth far more than gold. And Crato would never let anything slip unintentionally, because he understood better than most that the walls had ears. 

“However you ended up with him as a Captain, I appreciate it, and the troops do too. I know in real battle we’ll fight through wounds, but for now it’s good that he keeps us in fighting shape by having us see healing mages for everything more serious than bruises. He won’t protect us from the bruises or sore muscles, and there are plenty of those.” Krem paused a moment to gather his thoughts. 

“And not all of the training we do for the recruits is drill or sparring. There’s also some classes on specific tactics for fighting qunari, and a different set for fighting their mages. Things like running to build endurance, exercises to build muscle.” Krem paused again to eat some more before continuing. 

“We’ll even rotate the recruits through guard patrols to get them some real combat experience. Civil guarding doesn’t compare to active warfare, but it’s better than nothing. They train with us on the grounds for about two months, and then another month of patrols and more intense training, they’re ready.” 

Dorian was ignoring his food in favor of listening. Such a contradiction from his studies, which were almost entirely mental. And more likely to kill you than wound you, though that was unlikely under the watchful eye of the instructors. None of whom would ever risk using physical punishment on their young charges. His instructors always insisted it would be easier to master soldiery than magery, but hearing from Krem Dorian wasn’t sure. 

“For me personally, starting in the general barracks, it was rougher. They appreciate physical punishment more, want you to learn to fight through wounds by actually doing it. Sometimes if they aren’t pleased with a unit’s progress they’ll shorten rations until it does, saying that you earn your food in the field so you’ll earn it here.” Krem looked alarmed as anger flashed across Dorian’s face. 

“I’ll have my father investigate the practices. They are not what we spend Magisterium gold on, or if it is I know a number of people who will feel strongly about it.” Krem laughed nervously, walls of distrust going up in his eyes as he finished his food.

“I’d forgotten I was talking to someone who might actually be able to do something about it.” He nodded to Alvina as he stood up. “I better get back to Crato. It was good seeing you Dorian.” Krem’s tone said something quite different. 

“Well, I think you scared him good and proper,” Alvina said as the door shut behind Krem. “I think until now you’d done a good job of making him forget you’re an altus.”

“I know,” Dorian said mournfully. “We were doing so well.” That got a laugh out of Alvina. 

“You’ll just need to remind him that you can be an altus and his friend. I have him over for lunch most days, because I want to keep an eye on him and make sure no one is giving him trouble. Let him keep seeing you and he’ll come around. Make knows you need more friends.” Then she gave him one of her looks. The one that said she knew what he was feeling, and wanted him to say it out loud. Not that he would. There were some things Alvina didn’t need to know. Even if she’d probably guessed. 

“I also came down here to look into what’s going on with Alexius.” He handed her Felix’s letter. “I want to make sure he’s not going to get in too deep with the people he’s meeting with, and I would definitely appreciate you having an escape plan for Felix if something goes wrong.” 

“I can do that, though I probably won’t know too much about who he’s meeting with.” She gave him a pointed look. “And I have some clients coming in soon, who would probably wonder why a slave was eating with an Altus.” She went back to her sketches, and he kissed her on the cheek before he left. 

On his way back to his tower, he went by the practice fields. He didn’t stop and stare or anything, he just wanted to get a look at all of the trainees. Okay, and Krem, who was easy to spot at the head of the group, leading them in sword drills. He was in armor, but it was possible to see his muscles flex and move. It took an effort to keep moving, but after intimidating Krem, the last thing he wanted to make Krem feel was preyed on. It wasn’t until he got back to his tower that he noticed that he was hard. So much for the sex he had a the party.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update! I got it done early to have a friend look it over, and it turns out it needs less editing than I though it would. Enjoy! Already starting next month's so we'll see. My health issues being what they are, I make NO promises.

    It took three days before he thought of a way to remind Krem that he was first and foremost a friend. Which was two and a half days longer than it should have taken him really. Alvina was always telling him that there were two gifts that passed him by; understanding people and common sense. Charming them was different from understanding them, much to his chagrin. 

 

    There was one worn book in his collection. It wasn’t worn because he didn’t care for it. He’d just owned it for many years, and read it more times than he could count. The book didn’t have the honor of being his first real novel, but it was an early one. The first time he’d read it, he’d had a dictionary next to him. His mother offered to read it to him, but he kept refusing. He was old enough and determined. 

 

    It was a tale of a young boy, as so many novels written for people whose bodies would change in a few years were. He was a soporati boy, an orphan, surviving in Tevinter. Dorian figured Krem would appreciate the story of a boy who came to leave Tevinter, and have wonderful adventures on a ship sailing around the world. 

 

    Before he deposited it into Krem’s room, he wrote a note, explaining the book’s history. Some part of him wanted to joke he knew every fold and crease that existed on this book, and if there were new ones there would be consequences. But he didn’t want to risk scaring Krem with a joke. Especially since he was coming to understand he held power in Krem’s life. 

 

    Which was another indication that he lacked common sense, because Krem wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have power. Maybe that meant friendship was out of reach. Maybe it would never be two sided and some part of Krem would always feel obligated. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t try though. 

**. . .**

 

Dorian was knee deep in dust in one of the older archives of the Magisterium. None of the dust ever fell on the shelves because of wards, but no one here found it worth the time to clean it. Most of these texts had nothing to do with magic, so they were wildly unpopular. Mostly old military reports and census records, from so long ago no one cared. 

     But they did include records from Anderfels survivors from the first blight. Some made it back to Minrathous with reports and records while the Anderfels were still part of the Imperium. It had been excised from the empire not long afterwards, lest it drain the empire to fight the blight so far from home. But the reports and accounts were still here, filed away in hopes that someone would do… something. 

 

     Tevinter wouldn’t. More especially Minrathous wouldn’t. Minrathous above all else, going back as far as there were written records. Armies swallowed by darkspawn, not in defense of farmlands or citizens, but mages, and government. He sighed. One more thing he hoped to change, at least in part. But he wasn’t here to right old wrongs, he was here to read about them. 

 

    The dust thickened as he reached the area specifically for the Anderfels. The archives were still here, but no one cared about an area no longer part of the empire. Except soporati scholars digging into ancient history. Dorian held his mage light close to the wards, noticing he was in the correct section. 

 

     More than reports, there were a few journals and other records stashed away. Anything related to darkspawn was likely to have been taken by the Grey Wardens, but there was one journal in particular he wanted to find. It involved one young boy who’d survived a darkspawn attack, only to end up with what the world now called the taint. His family did everything they could to make him comfortable, and dorian wanted to see if there was anything that could potentially help Felix.

 

     He’d found out about it from one of the soporati scholars. Not really a friend, because that would be frowned upon by Magister Pavus. But when he and Alexius got started, he sent letters to everyone who did research on anything related to darkspawn. Sometimes his letters earned him no reply. One resulted in a memorable day where he’d been shuttled around to three different archives, only to find out the texts had been taken by Grey Wardens. Two hundred years earlier. 

 

    This scholar, however, had sent him towards reliable sources. Only ones he’d viewed in person, recently, and knew would be there. One wasn’t entirely relevant, but it was still fascinating to read the treatment of those with the taint in different cultures of Thedas. It wouldn’t help Felix, but it was easy to see how someone might think it would. Another was one of the sources he and Alexiuss used together, and led to one of the early medications. Dorian didn’t have the highest hopes for this book, it being a journal written by peasants. But he was in favor of leaving no stone unturned. 

 

     At last he found the title he was looking for, and touched the wards as closely to it as he could manage. They split down to protect the books on either side, sliding in place, and he pulled out the journal. The wards stung him slightly until he pulled on gloves. Oh how he hated these things, but they were a necessity. No need to hurt something centuries old for the sake of his curiosity. 

 

    Dorian started walking back, book in his hands and the wards back in place. They were fascinating, really. Drawn into the bookshelves with lyrium runes and refreshed at the head every year or so. Because the bookshelves were continuous, starting at the front of the archive and going all of the way to the back, the runes could be refreshed from the front of the archive. Elegant, and he appreciated elegant. His mouth twitched up at the corners. Except for his tendency to have sexual encounters in closets. Those weren’t particularly elegant. 

 

     It took a few more minutes, but he made it to the reading area. It was lit dimly, more yellow than usual mage lights. Supposedly it protected the books further. But it made it very difficult to read. Dorian sighed and summoned one of the mage  lights over, setting the book on the high table and setting his note taking supplies on the lower one. No sense risking ink getting on historical records, but multiple visits could degrade the books, so notes were encouraged. There was so much protocol that didn’t make sense to him that he’d interrogated one of the archivists on his first visit here. Fascinating stuff really. 

 

    Much to his surprise, the journal was intriguing. It was well laid out, with methods clearly explained. He checked the author again. Ah, that explained it. One of the scribes some mages used. A somewhat famous one, because he was an example used in courses on handwriting and research, when it was time to discuss how to keep track of everything you’d done so far. 

 

   Dorian continued, noticing that some of the herbal treatments for the taint hadn’t changed since the first blight. Now that was interesting. One of the most effective treatments for some of the madness like symptoms was combining a dispelling with meditation. He scribbled it down. This he could send to Felix, and maybe get him some more lucid time. No sense in him living if he couldn’t be himself. It was something Felix said often, even if Dorian didn’t entirely agree. But it wasn’t up to thim, so he would just do whatever he could. 

 

**. . .**

 

    A few days later, Krem came to his tower, with the book in his hand. He looked half sheepish and half terrified when Dorian opened the door. Dorian had no idea what to say, and Krem stood there in awkward silence, clearly expecting a greeting. 

 

    “I brought your book back,” Krem finally said as he held it out. “It seems well loved, so I wanted to make sure it got back to you unharmed. 

     “Thank you,” Dorian said as he started to remember his manners. He opened the door further.     “Come on in.” Krem stepped in, eyes landing on the new tables he’d put in, as well as the thick canvas covers protecting his books from blow back. Not much work was being done, because he was still reviewing his copy of the research notes. If work was being done, Krem wouldn’t be allowed in the room. Then he noticed the look of fear on Krem’s face. 

 

    “I’m not actually working on anything dangerous.” He rolled up the covers on the bookcases and opened the shutters to let more light in, blowing out candles as he went. “And I know it’s scary looking, but it’s medical research.” Krem nodded, the fear not moving much from his face. Dorian sighed inwardly, taking his book and reshelving it. 

    “What kind of medical stuff?” Krem asked. A valid question, and here was where it went back into scary. 

    “I’m doing research on how to cure darkspawn taint, or at least figure out how to make it more livable for a friend of mine.” He hesitated. “It’s not much different from researching any other disease, in terms of risk. I don’t have anything in here that could taint you, or I wouldn’t let you in here.” Krem seemed surprised. 

 

      “I never pictured mages doing something…” Krem paused, struggling to find the right word. “Helpful.” 

 

    “Yeah, I imagine we don’t have the best reputation for doing things that help people.” Small wonder, with mottos like Minrathous first. “But I have a friend who works on developing better healing spells for smaller wounds and burns.” Friend might not be the right word for someone who sucked you off in a closet at a party, but he didn’t want to get into details with Krem. And he forced himself to make eye contact and think of other things before he could wonder if Krem would like having anything of his sucked. 

    “You’ve mentioned that magic involves dealing with the Fade, and being tempted by demons. It seems risky to do something like that for experiments.” Some of the fear in Krem’s expression was being replaced by curiosity. Dorian was swamped with relief. It wouldn’t do for him to lose the closest thing he had to a friend. Aside from Felix, who might die any day now, and then where would he be?

 

    “Potentially. But if people know what they’re doing, and how much power they need to channel in what directions, it makes spells safer to cast. Less time spent in the fade that way. And sometimes people come up with new or inventive ways to call on magic or use it to solve a problem.” Dorian paused a moment, weighing what he knew about soldiery. “It’s kind of like training with weapons. Sure you risk getting hurt, but you’re much safer over all, once you can use them properly.” Krem nodded, trying to look like he wasn’t staring at the bookcases.  

 

    “That makes sense in a way. The more you practice with a sword, the more you can be trusted not to hurt anyone with it.” He grinned at Dorian. “I don’t know if military and magical innovation looking anything alike though. I can’t imagine effective military research happening in a tower like this.” Dorian grinned back, following Krem’s eyes. He was probably too far away to make out titles, but the look of longing was unmistakable. 

 

    Krem was so curious for a soporati. Dorian immediately rebuked himself for that. Seeing as Krem and Alvina were both soporati and two of the most curious people he knew, it was an asinine statement to think.

 

    “Would you like some more to read?” Dorian asked, trying not to grin when Krem’s face lit up. That smile would be the end of him. 

 

    “I would love that, if you’re willing,” Krem replied. The last of the fear left. Him being up here couldn’t do much to make him forget Dorian was a mage, or a person of power. But somehow Krem was more at ease anyway and that baffled him slightly. Maybe Krem just needed a reminder that Dorian wasn’t likely to run to his father with every little problem? Just the sort of things that were part of a Tevinter neither he nor his father would stand for. None of those problems would include Krem if he had anything to say about it. 

 

   He shook his head and went back to his shelves, hunting for titles Krem would enjoy. Dorian blushed as his eyes landed on the title of his shame. Moving right on from that one. Instead, he settled on a book of his favorite Andrastian myths. Usually he would avoid even talking about books like that with friends, but Krem seemed good natured and the book was interesting. 

 

    Dorian added a book on magic usually given to students who were around eight. It explained more about the different kinds of demons and the temptations they offered, and some of the technical aspects of casting explained in a way that made sense to those unfamiliar with magic. Krem asked enough questions that Dorian figured he would enjoy it. 

 

   Lastly, he added one of the drier romances he had with two men. There was no sex, just affection, so it wouldn’t startle Krem. Selfish of him, really, but he wanted to see how Krem would react and what he thought of it. Plus it was well written and the plot was gripping and thoroughly mocked the politics of Tevinter, which he figured Krem would appreciate.  

 

    While he picked, Dorian could feel Krem’s eyes following him around the room. Not that Krem said anything. He seemed to understand that this bordered on sacred for Dorian, and didn’t want to interrupt. There was a certain amount of warmth to the gaze when Dorian turned with the books in his arms to walk over to Krem, and he tried not to blush. Friends looked at one another like that all the time, he assured himself. He’d looked at plenty of friends that way, in fact. 

 

    “These should last you a little while, let me know what you think of them,” Dorian told Krem as he handed over the books. A slight flush hit his cheeks, and he hoped the tower was warm enough to be at fault. Krem gave him a small smile before leaving, and Dorian closed the door with a certain amount of relief. Both to know that he hadn’t ruined things with his friend, and that he could collect himself. What was he, some sort of hormonal teenage boy unable to control his emotions? He would drive his friend away with this if he wasn’t careful. 

 

**. . .**

 

So much good news to write to Felix! On two fronts, now that he’d managed to write up a more coherent version of the notes he’d taken from the archives. Not that he entirely wanted to talk about Krem more. The last letter he’d gotten seemed… Very knowing. And slightly jealous, and Dorian couldn’t tell if it was a you have a friend and a life jealousy or I have a crush on you jealousy. 

 

   One meant sympathy and trying to brave Alexius’ wrath for a visit. One meant a potentially awkward conversation where he hurt one of the only people in the world he held dear. Those conversations never agreed with him. He sighed. 

 

     Filomena might know tactful ways to let someone down. Maker knew she did it enough because men didn’t like feeling unneeded. He could always ask the next time he wrote. She didn’t come to social functions much for the moment, attempting to ride out the scandal of a betrothal to a lady. He missed her. But maybe if people adjusted, there could be hope for him after all.

 

    Dorian shook his head and set up his writing materials on his desk. He couldn’t wait for a reply from her before he wrote Felix. A few days felt like a strain as it was, but he needed to make sure the ritual was clearly explained. So he would do what he always did. Ignore the issue until he couldn't’ anymore and then it would no doubt explode in his face. Felix might be dead before then, though, and wasn’t that a cheery thought. 

 

    But he let himself slip in a little more about Krem. How his eyes were usually on Krem’s shoulders, and his gut felt twisted when Krem was upset. Still no mention of the shame book, because Felix was essentially his little brother and some details needed no mention. And he didn’t outright admit his feelings were turning into more than friendship, but the implication was there. It was good to talk about it, even if he figured that would disappoint Felix more. He signed the letter, and ran it down to the steward. 

 

   The attraction still made him feel like a creep. Krem’s life was hard enough without having someone inappropriate develop a crush on him. More inappropriate because he was one of three friends, if Alvina and Crato counted. Dorian didn’t want Krem to think he was anything like those men who chased after youth and beauty, using whatever they could to get release. 

 

     All the more important because he didn’t want Krem to think he’d been rescued only to end up in a situation that was somehow worse. Krem didn’t owe him anything, not even friendship, and if that’s the way things fell he would be devastated but would learn to live with it. 

 

    But whatever he did, Krem needed to not find out about his feelings. The last time he’d told a friend about his interest, it was back in his earlier days at the circle tower. The boy called him disgusting, said he felt creeped out and refused to talk about it or Dorian liking men again. The friendship eventually recovered, but it was never the same. There was a chilly sort of distance, and that would hurt worse than hiding his feelings. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! My health issues are your gain, because right now I've been having an allergic reaction bordering on anaphylaxis for like a week. I'm about ready to murder everyone in the medical field because everyone is just shrugging and going, I don't know, ask someone else! But all that rage means for some damn good reading for you. Extra long chapter, extra early update. 
> 
> Enjoy!

    Dorian paused in his writing as he heard footsteps on the stairs. A soft chime rang out as the ward he put on the door was tripped. He was due to get darkspawn blood tomorrow and he didn’t want any surprises. Dorian capped his ink and stood up, heading to the door. The wards parted at his touch, and he couldn’t breathe for a moment as they spat him out without breaking the seal on the door. He shook himself. That never got more pleasant. 

 

    But it was the only way to leave the seal intact while only having one door. Back when he was working with Alexius, they had two doors, and could open one door and set of wards while having a second set closed ahead. That way there couldn’t be contamination leaks. But installing another door would be impossible, so he would just get wrapped in a ward bubble and popped out. Thankfully he could hold his breath for a while. 

 

    And then he bumped into Krem, carrying books. His books from the looks of it. It had only been five days, surely he couldn’t have finished them quickly. Not with all of his duties. It took a second longer for Krem to spot him, and Dorian felt his cheeks flush as a smile spread across the soldier’s face. 

 

    “Dorian. I was so excited about the books you lent me,” Krem blushed, “I finished them already. I haven’t been getting much in the way of sleep lately, because I’ve been doing too much reading.” He didn’t look less embarrassed as he admitted this. “I may also have spent a small fortune on candles.” Dorian smiled. 

 

    “Thank you for bringing them back. I’d offer to let you in, but I’ve got my wards set up for the darkspawn blood I’m expecting tomorrow.” He took the books from Krem and opened the door enough to nudge them through the wards. Books didn’t breathe, so it would be a less uncomfortable process for them. 

 

    “And if I remember correctly, Alvina is in charge of the candle rations, and she likes it when people read. So you don’t need to spend a fortune, you can just get them from her.” A smile grew across Dorian’s face. “Besides, I can pay her back if she gets cranky, but she’s not known for things like that for candles. I want to make sure more of your pay can get back to your family.” There was an awkward pause while they both stared at each other, waiting for the conversation to continue. Krem finally took a deep breath and started. 

 

      “But returning wasn’t the only thing I came up here for. I was hoping you would come join Alvina and I for lunch.” Krem stared intently at his feet. “I’ve enjoyed our conversations together.” Some feeling Dorian couldn’t quite name came bubbling up. Gladness almost, with a hint of regret that Krem would never truly know what it meant to him. 

 

    “I would enjoy that very much. Lead on please.” Dorian waved his arm toward the stairway, and Krem looked up from his feet long enough to smile. He headed for the stairs, Dorian following. “What did you think of the books?” Dorian’s mouth was moving before he fully intended. At least it didn’t say what he was dying to know, which was did you enjoy the book about two men in love. 

 

    “I enjoyed reading some of the Andrastian myths.” Krem tilted his head, frowning in concentration. It was adorable. “In Tevinter, it’s rare to find books like that, especially since that one was from Ferelden. It would get a bit dry sometimes, with history and evidence, but that also made it interesting.” Dorian enviously noted that Krem could talk and walk down the steep spiral staircase without sounding winded. He was glad he’d asked his question at the top of the stairs, so he wouldn’t shame himself. 

 

    “I appreciated the book about magic. Mostly I was surprised you lent it to me, isn’t there a lot of secrecy around the practice of magic? I mean, I feel better about mages and I’ve had most of my questions answered, so it was good for me. But won’t you get in trouble?” Krem asked the question and looked expectantly at Dorian. While walking. How in Thedas did he not fall down the stairs? And Dorian would have to shame himself. He took a deep breath before starting, hand on the railing and eyes on the stairs. 

 

    “Well, magic isn’t a secret so much as people aren’t usually interested. You could study everything there is about magic and it wouldn’t make a difference in terms of whether or not you could do it unless you had the gift.” Dorian paused to make sure he wouldn’t be panting for breath, and he could still feel Krem’s eyes on him. There was a faint smile on Krem’s face, he could tell. 

 

    “So really, the only reason for mages to limit information is because it scares people. We need the powers of the fade in order to work magic, demons inhabit the fade. Everyone can think of times when they’ve been tempted and they couldn’t say no. And that’s a scary amount of trust to put in another person.” Dorian stopped himself, realizing he was giving a lecture on Magisterium politics to a yes or no question. 

 

     “There are some at the Magisterium who frown on sharing information. But they can’t do more than glare at me at parties. There was some archaic court ages ago that decided enforcing censorship laws on books about magic when books still needed to be printed and readily available to mages, and mages certainly weren’t wanting to do all of the printing themselves.” Dorian could feel his pace slowing, and Krem matched him, moving with a deliberate grace of someone who usually had control of his limbs. At least going slower he wasn’t huffing like a bellows. 

 

     “On a personal level, I feel like the more people know about mages and magic the less scared they’ll be. Admittedly that matters less in Tevinter because the penalties for attacking a mage are so steep, it doesn’t really matter. But ultimately, I want to live in a Tevinter where soporati feel comfortable coming to mages about problems with taxes or crops or other mundane issues magic could help with.” Krem snorted, and Dorian didn’t blame him. 

 

     “Yes, I know, why bother to help maintain the empire when we can plot and squabble and try to better our own lives.” Dorian looked at Krem. “And what did you think of the third book?” A slight flush started creeping up his cheeks, and he took a deep breath as subtly as he could to try to prevent it. At least here his lack of physical shape was useful. Krem had a soft smile on his face, one that radiated kindness and understanding. 

 

    “It was beautiful. I’ve read a few trashy romances in my time, but this wasn’t anything like them. The plot was good, for one, and I believed it when they fell for each other. I often can’t say the same when the couple is a man and a woman. sometimes it just seems forced, like what people are expecting.” Krem paused, a small smirk on his face. “I wanted you to come to lunch, but Alvina also wanted to check on you before you got started on more of your research. She told me to make sure that you got a good meal in you before you started scaring off all of the slaves and forgetting to eat.”

 

    “Ah well. Alvina does know me.” Dorian tilted his head. “I’ve not been paying attention to the bells, too busy reading. Is it lunch time then?” He had a teasing smile on his face. Krem laughed. 

 

   “Yes, yes it is.” There was a  twinkle in his eye as he picked up on the teasing. “I see what she means about making sure you’d eat.” Krem opened the door at the bottom of the tower, Dorian following. He couldn’t help but feel at least a little proud of the smile on Krem’s face and how easily the young soldier was around him. Not that his comments on the male romance gave anything away, other than he appreciated good writing, regardless of the genders of the people having a romance. Unless the smile was something to go by, but he wasn’t going to risk a friendship on the basis of a smile. He took a deep breath, and attempted to force the idea out of his mind. 

 

    Until they got to Alvina’s doorway, and Krem smiled at him with pure joy. He couldn’t help but smile back. Why did his traitor heart beat faster whenever he saw that smile? Why couldn’t he enjoy a friend who wasn’t repulsed by whom he loved? Maybe having lunch with Alvina would help him forget about it for a little while. 

 

**. . .**

 

    As soon as Alvina opened the door, Dorian knew she’d out done herself. His mouth started watering. The air was thick with spices, and he could smell fish. This was one of his favorite dishes, though it was a beast to prepare because it needed to marinate for exactly the right amount of time. Not to mention some of the spices were difficult to come by and expensive. Alvina was there with a big grin, and he moved to hug her. 

 

    “You’ve out done yourself, you shouldn’t have,” Dorian said in the warm tone he used with her whenever she acted more like a mother than anything else. Sometimes it was nice to have an actual mother. 

 

    “Oh don’t thank me, some of this is on Krem.” She had a warm smile for him, and seemed to be glowing with pride. Nothing made Alvina happier than when her ducklings went on to become people who spread good in the world. 

 

   “I asked her to put something together to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’ve been working here for almost a year. My family is safe, the pay is good, and I have a friend.” That part made Krem blush. “So I’ve gotten together some of your favorite foods and Alvina was kind enough to make them.” Dorian crushed Krem up in a hug. 

 

   “Oh this is too much, it must have cost nearly a month’s pay. You’ll have to let me pay you back for some of this, it isn’t your fault I have expensive taste.” Now he could smell the wine breathing, and garlic spiced bread to go with the fish. None of the items were cheap. 

 

   “It’s alright. My parents are really well taken care of. They’ve started sending part of the money back if they don’t need it, and I never leave the grounds, so I don’t have much to spend it on. Crato and Alvina make sure I get the gear and clothes I need, plus things from the household stores…” Krem trailed off as he noticed the frown on Dorian’s face. 

 

    “You haven’t left the grounds in the entire time you’ve been working here?” Not that Dorian did much, because everything he wanted was here. Except the bookstores, he left for those. 

 

    “No. I was too worried I would be spotted by someone from the army. Thankfully I don’t have to turn down drink invitations because none of the recruits want to drink with their boss.” Krem didn’t seem displeased by the arrangement. He looked healthy, glowing with rest and exercise and good food. 

 

   “I just imagine it would be very isolating, that’s all.” Dorian replied. How sad for a handsome young man to need to stay cooped up. His isolation was of his own doing most of the time, and it still felt sad. No one that handsome deserved to be that lonely, although he had no idea if Krem wanted to date or could find someone accepting. 

 

   “Well, even though I don’t like to be a bother, Alvina can get me books, and she keeps me company. I write letters to my parents a lot, and Crato loves spending extra time drilling me and preparing me to be a better lieutenant.” Krem started moving towards the table, Alvina and Dorian behind him. His eyes weren’t leaving the table much, and Dorian was reminded that soldiering was hungry work. “I stay busy for the most part. Honestly I feel safe here, and that’s something new enough that I don’t want to give it up.”

 

    Everyone sat around the table, halting the conversation while they passed plates around and dished out food. They all lost themselves in the flavor for a moment, and Dorian made a number of noises he felt somewhat embarrassed by. It tasted good, like triumph. This was the meal he got when he became a circle enchanter, and Alexius had made whenever they had a breakthrough. It warmed him, always, and made him think of what could be.

 

    “I think I remember telling you about Mory, and where I got you those books. If I went with you, we should be safe enough, and I imagine it would be good to stretch your legs.” Dorian knew it would’ve been more tactful to let the issue drop, and between the good wine and the contentedly full feeling, it was tempting. But he didn’t want Krem to have to hide away, he wanted the soldier to have a life. 

 

   “Mory’s the man like me?” Krem asked with unadulterated excitement in his voice. 

 

   “Yes, and I figure you can use some of your money to buy yourself books instead of spoiling me, I figure that would be much better.” Dorian couldn’t help tease krem, even if this lunch was one of the best things to happen to him in recent history. A slow smile spread across Krem’s face, and the teasing lilt of his tone went straight to Dorian’s groin. 

    “But I like spoiling you, don’t you like being spoiled?” Krem’s smile made Dorian feel like he might be the next thing on the menu and he turned red. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Alvina’s eyebrows climbing up her face and the corners of her eyes crinkling in a smile. 

 

   “That is… I mean... “ And now he was stuttering. Dorian cleared his throat. “I really appreciate the lunch and being spoiled, but I figure you’d rather spend your paycheck on yourself.” 

 

   “I wanted to do something nice for you, because having a space to be myself and not worry if I’m going to lose my job or get attacked because of it. It isn’t something I’ve had before.” Krem bounced slightly in his seat. “But if you’re sure we’ll be safe, I would be happy to go meet Mory and maybe get myself some more books.” 

 

   “I can’t imagine people would still be looking for you after a year, and I’m an Altus. I can go anywhere with a guard or by myself and not arouse suspicion. When’s your next day off?” 

 

   “The day after tomorrow the recruits will be meeting with the civil guard to learn patrol routes and basics. I’ll have the day free.” Krem’s smile was less teasing, and more spreading across his whole face. Excitement looked wonderful on him. 

 

   “That sounds excellent. Mory doesn’t usually open until the afternoon, so let’s head out after lunch?” Dorian was beaming with excitement and Alvina looked incredibly amused. Amused and knowing, even if she hadn’t done much more than smile or smirk, depending on whether she was looking at Krem or Dorian. Dorian never could hide anything from her. 

 

   “That sounds good, and I’ll see you then. I have to go back to training. I just hope I didn’t eat so much I shame myself on the practice field. And I’ll need a few minutes to get back into armor.” Krem neatly pushed in his chair as he stood up, stretching and exhaling. 

 

    “Somehow Krem, I don’t think that could ever happen.” Dorian stood up when Krem did, kissing Alvina on the cheek. “Thank you for cooking, I should get back to my reading.” Krem bumped his shoulder playfully on the way out the door, and going back to his tower didn’t seem so lonely. Triumph on his tongue, and something to look forward to. 

 

**. . .**

 

The day Dorian was supposed to take Krem to see Mory, he woke up a little after dawn. He was excited, sure, but if he got more sleep it would be closer to the time he was supposed to see Krem. And then he wouldn’t be waiting around for an age. But after half an hour laying in bed, he gave up and got up. 

 

    Reading proved to require too much concentration, he gave that up four hours before lunch. So if he was going to take Krem out, he would look good, and ordered a bath for himself. He indulged in expensive soap, and even rubbed oil into his skin to make it soft. Some part of him wondered what he was doing. These were things he would do before a party, or meet up with someone he wanted to make a match with. But he wanted to feel attractive, even if he was never going to talk about his feelings with Krem. 

 

    And it managed to kill another hour. He was hard, thinking about spending this much time with Krem, but he didn’t entirely want to wank. He was clean, and didn’t want to ruin that, and it would be weird to spend time with Krem immediately after that. 

 

   Instead, he found a suitably compelling text to read about fire manipulation. Boring enough to hopefully keep him from getting too hard. It meant two hours slogged by until it was time to eat lunch. The slaves brought up his usual meal of sandwiches, and he ate more because he needed to than because anything tasted good. And then it was time to get Krem. He straightened his robes, checking his hair before heading down. 

 

    Dorian knocked on Krem’s door, losing his breath when the young man opened it. Instead of the usual rough canvas, he was wearing slim black trousers and a blue shirt that laced up the front. There was small vee of skin exposed and his eyes locked on it. And then made eye contact to see a small smile on Krem’s face. So his attention didn’t go unnoticed. He could feel a blush start up his face. Krem’s smile softened, and he tilted his head. 

 

  “It’s alright, I like it.” Krem’s tone was soft, as though he was worried he would scare Dorian. “Are you ready to head out then?” His tone grew in confidence and Dorian smiled. 

 

   “Absolutely. I’m guessing you don’t mind a walk? I prefer not to get my family’s carriage involved when I go to Mory’s.” Dorian forced himself to take deep breaths when he realized how quickly he was talking. But this was Krem, his friend, and he could feel himself starting to settle. And this was a role he’d played before, taking new unusual people to meet Mory. 

 

  “I’m up for the walk if you are. I spend all my days training, does all your soft tower living leave you up for a walk? You seemed to have a hard time on those stairs the other day.” The smile on Krem’s face did Dorian good. He was so relaxed, and looked like he felt safe. Trusted Dorian to keep him safe. And he would, whatever it took to keep that smile on Krem’s face. 

 

  “I’m sure I’ll manage. I had to get there somehow to buy those books I got for you after all.” Dorian knew his smile matched Krem’s and he couldn’t help it. A friend who didn’t flinch at him liking men. How did he get so lucky? “This way,” he said, and gestured toward the gate. 

 

   A space hung between their hands, one he could feel. He wondered if Krem could feel it. Even if he had a friend who accepted him liking men, and even if he were an Altus, he wouldn’t walk around Tevinter holding hands with a man. 

 

    But he enjoyed the electric feeling as he led Krem through Minrathous. Knowing Krem’s curiosity, Dorian took the time to explain about famous landmarks and buildings he enjoyed, and what they were known for. All the while they stayed almost close enough to touch. The warmth made him realize how much he’d been missing human contact. The sun was shining, and the city was full of people. 

 

   “We’re here,” Dorian said, almost too soon for his taste. And Dorian didn’t blame Krem for feeling skeptical. The exterior never looked better, although it never looked worse, so clearly Mory was doing something. 

 

   “Yes, this is it. Mory likes it to look somewhat uninviting, so only the people he wants will feel welcome.” Dorian strode towards the door, opening it to Mory’s subtly delighted face. “Hello.” He moved in quickly, so Krem could come in behind him. “I brought someone new to meet you.” Mory gave him a look. It was his normal face, with one eyebrow slightly raised. It said, must be someone special to bring him. “He’s the one I bought the books for.” Dorian could hear the sounds of Krem gingerly coming in, clearly worried about the building as Mory attempted to don his welcoming face. 

 

   Which was wasted as soon as Krem stepped in. The dim lighting didn’t phase him, he only had eyes for books. Large shelves nearly reached the ceiling, forming narrow aisles that crowded out the windows and making the room feel much smaller than it was. And then he uttered a sentence that made Dorian adore him.

 

   “All of these are about sex?” Krem whispered reverentially. That got a smile out of Mory and Dorian laughed. 

 

  “Some of them, yes.” Mory’s voice sounded different to Dorian, a little higher pitched. Krem noticed, focusing in on Mory. A furrow appeared in his brow as he took everything in. The intensity of Krem’s gaze would seem rude, but Mory walked out from behind the counter to let Krem look. Dorian tried to notice what Krem was looking for, and couldn’t. Krem, on the other hand, breathed a sigh of relief. 

 

   “So it’s true, and you are like me.” Krem stepped forward to get a better look. Mory raised an eyebrow slightly, with a small smile on his face. 

 

   “Don’t worry, I thought I was the only one for a while. I’m far from the only become man, or fio man, as Maevaris says. She loves to use the archaic for some reason. It’s not exactly easy for us to be open about who we are, which is part of why I opened this shop.” Mory’s grin got wider, and Dorian couldn’t help but smile. Someday he wanted to find something that made him come alive this much. Krem didn’t seem to notice that he was moving closer, and staring. Until he nearly bumped into Mory, and then blushed. “It’s alright, I had a similar reaction. So do most of the men like myself. THey always want to know about the beard.” 

 

   “A little bit, yeah. It looks realistic, especially how it’s unevenly shaved.” Krem hesitated a moment before continuing. “Did you grow it? The book mentioned magic could make changes.” 

 

   “Yeah, Maevaris, who helped me write the book for women who everyone thought were men gives me a potion every week, and I get a beard and muscles. Doesn’t do a whole lot for my chest. Makes it a little smaller, is all. There is magic that could do more, but it scares me a little.” 

 

   “Yeah.” Krem hesitated a moment. “I don't know that I would want to use magic to change my body. I don’t need to, I just need people to see me as male. I don’t know if that makes me less....” 

 

   “No. Anyone I’ve ever met who would say that you’re less of a man because you’re content in your body I’ve corrected. I’ve been told once or twice I’m not a real man if I don’t do something about my chest. Either they learn or they don’t come back to my store. I do my best to make sure everyone is welcome, and those that might make it unwelcome usually only stay long enough to put coin into the shop.” The door opened behind them and Dorian and Krem moved forward. “You two feel free to browse my shelves.” Mory’s expression was back to the usual never give anything away, and Dorian led Krem further into the aisles. 

     The building was better lit the deeper they went, and it was by design. The front looked like a store that sold books about sex. In the back, there were areas with chairs and skylights that let in more light and sun. It looked and felt magical, sun filtering through the dust and lighting the shelves just right. As Dorian always did, he took the sort of deep breath he could only take here. 

 

    “This doesn’t look quite like what I expected,” Krem said in the hushed tone usually reserved for libraries. 

 

   “Yeah, there’s magic on the inside, figurative and literal. He wards it, hiding the back from people who mean harm. And he’s trained with weapons, and has the place alarmed. It’s the safest place in Thedas for people like us.” Dorian smiled as Krem paid more attention to the titles on the shelves than the words coming out of his mouth. He took a seat, content to watch Krem and soak in the atmosphere. Krem was glowing slightly, and kept glancing towards the front of the store as if he wanted to talk to Maury more. 

 

    And then Krem’s eyes caught the title of a book. Shame book. And of course he pulled it out to read the description in the cover. Thankfully he was too engrossed to notice Dorian blushing. Or so he thought. There was a smile on Krem’s face. 

 

   “You blush at some of the strangest things.” Krem’s tone was the same lilt that made Dorian hard two days ago, and the effect didn’t get weaker with time. And then Krem flushed, as if he was remembering who he was talking to. 

 

    “I know, it’s quite the character flaw.” Bless hours of practice for making his tone steady regardless of whatever was going on around him. Much to his disappointment, Krem just cleared his throat and took a deep breath.    
  


   “Please don’t flirt with me if you don’t mean it. I thought I liked the attention, but it feels odd knowing you don’t mean it.” And now Krem looked like a kicked puppy. 

 

   “Alright. I do mean it, but if it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t do it. I always want you to feel safe with me, more than anything else.”  Krem turned towards Dorian with a frown on his face, appraising. Now he was looking at Dorian as closely as he’d looked at Mory earlier and Dorian was uncomfortably aware of how hard he was. 

 

   “Don’t...  You favor men?” The question in Krem’s voice hurt. 

 

    “Well, yes. I favor men exclusively.” Dorian stood up and walked closer, gently taking the book out of Krem’s hands and putting it back on the shelf. He tilted his head, asking a question with his body as he held his hands up to Krem’s shoulders. Krem leaned forward, and Dorian nearly groaned when he touched them. Nearly. He had some dignity. And Mory frowned on people using his store as a place for sex. 

 

   “You’re very much a man, and that’s why I spend so much time staring at your shoulders.” His tone had gone warm, and he couldn’t help but rub the muscles slightly. Such good muscles. He gave a little sigh of appreciation. Dorian tapped the vee of skin showing with his finger. “This has been driving me to distraction all day, I nearly walked into a pole. Just the hint of your chest muscles, and the way this color looks on you.”

 

   Krem was slightly shorter than Dorian, and he set his fingers under Krem’s chin. Krem’s head tilted back, his breath caught, and his mouth opened. Dorian leaned forward, giving him time to move away, and  Krem just leaned forward slightly into the kiss. It was chaste, and didn’t last long. More about affection than arousal. It made Dorian harder anyway, of course. 

 

   “But I think that’s enough for now. I wanted to let you pick out books, and buy you as many as you wanted.” Dorian sounded giddy, and he couldn’t entirely help it. Krem looked hungry for more, but Dorian didn’t want to rush this. Krem was worth more than a hurried encounter if the butterflies in his stomach were anything to go by. He could also hear Mory’s footsteps behind them, so he took a step back and tried to look presentable. 

 

   “I thought he would never leave.” Mory’s resentment surprised Dorian. “He likes books about non consensual sex, and he has to skim them in front of me to make sure they’re suitable.” Mory grimaced. This was really out of character. He was a vault, and didn’t talk about people’s preferences as a rule. “He’s one of my best customers, so I try to keep him happy but I hope he’s not doing any of the things he reads. I’ll have a talk with Maevaris. She can keep an eye on him.” Mory shook his head as if he realized what he’d been saying. “I didn’t mean to unload on you two. I just came to see if Krem would like to talk more.” Krem opened his mouth, took one look at Dorian and closed it again. He could guess the topic. 

 

    “Ah. I’ve been meaning to track some romances down in a different section, why don’t I leave you two to it.” And he did, enjoying a pleasant hour just browsing. He grabbed one of the baskets, loading up on titles for both Krem and himself. 

 

   When the coast seemed clear, he added the shame book to the pile. There were two copies of many of the titles in his basket, so he hoped it wouldn’t look suspicious. He practiced saying I enjoyed the plot so much I wanted to keep it in his head until it sounded believable. He was probably overthinking this. Mory most likely wouldn’t want to embarrass him in front of Krem. Most likely. 

 

    Knowing Mory would try to give him a discount, he’d tallied up all of the prices and added a little extra, just to see if he could make Mory a little less dependent on customers like the man he was ranting about. All that done, he went to collect Krem. Checking out was uneventful. Mory, indeed, had no plans to embarrass him in front of Krem. The only “remark” he got was a slightly raised eyebrow and that could’ve meant anything. 

 

   The walk home was quiet, although they would occasionally exchange blushing glances. That and Krem would try to say he would pay Dorian back, and Dorian would insist that the books were gifts, and he had plenty of pocket money. Mory really wasn’t that expensive compared to his research tomes. 

 

   The night ended without a kiss, because they were on the grounds after all. Dorian didn’t even walk Krem to his door. They split up at the gate, books already in separate bags. All in all, a better day than he’d had in a long time. He was a little tired from all of the walking, and after waking up at dawn his bed certainly seemed inviting. Bed, and a hot dinner. Then he could read until he fell asleep. Wouldn’t that be nice. 

 

**. . .**

 

     There was… Knocking? Dorian heard something between a pound and a polite knock. He squinted, trying to figure out what time it was, but gave up. He’d put thick curtains on the windows, a habit from when he and Alexius would be up until all hours if they thought they were close to something. Thankfully, he kept a robe by the side of his bed so he could look vaguely respectable for whoever this was. Much to his surprise, he opened the door to Crato. 

 

    “Is there a problem?” Having the captain of the guard visit you unexpectedly and having him find the matter urgent enough to wake you was never a good sign. Crato hesitated. 

 

    “Can I come in?” Now that was truly alarming. 

 

    “Come in,” Dorian motioned as he stepped out of the way. Like all mages who were involved in government, he had wards against eavesdroppers and he activated them now. 

 

    “I apologize for waking you,” Crato said as he stood at attention. Dorian waved that away. Guard captains always knew when waking was important, or they didn’t last long. “Someone from the army came by, saying they’d gotten a tip that a woman criminal who joined up illegally was working for your father, and they wanted to investigate. They showed me a sketch that looked an awful lot like Krem. I sent them away, because they didn’t have any documentation.” Crato hesitated. “Your father has made enough enemies at the magisterium that they’ll be able to come back with the documentation they need to be allowed on the grounds. I wanted to warn you.” Dorian was poleaxed. People were still looking for Krem after nearly a year. 

 

    “Alright. Thank you for letting me know.” He dug two gold coins out of his lock box and handed them to Crato. Crato nodded and left, his eyes going slightly wide at the amount. 

 

     Dorian dispelled the wards and poked his head outside into the hall. The sun was up, Alvina would be too. It was nice while it lasted, but he would need to see her about getting Krem out of the country. He looked down at his robe. Maybe after he got dressed. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My health issues continue, but either I'm adapting or they're leveling off! So updates should be coming around every thirty days or so depending on how things go.

It didn't take Dorian long to put on clothes that could be worn around the grounds. Not robes that indicated his Altus rank, he didn’t have time for that. Krem needed to be gone by tomorrow morning, and while Alvina worked fast he had no idea how long it took to arrange something like this. Ship captains probably had schedules… 

All of the possibilities and things he might need to plan for whirled through his head. He forced himself to take the stairs at a reasonable pace, everything needed to seem normal. Sure it was a little earlier than he would be awake, let alone visiting Alvina, but it had happened before. Everyone would just assume he had some sort of urgent personal crisis. 

And then all of the plans in his brain came screeching to a halt when he got to her door, and heard clients. Alvina was always happy to see him, regardless. Having the heir come to visit gave her more status, and made her clients think kindly of her. This, however, was not a conversation that could happen in front of other people. 

Maybe he could go in and let her know that he needed her without giving too much away. Would it make a difference in when he could start making plans with her for Krem? On the one hand, he didn’t know how long her clients would take. On the other hand, he had no idea how long this conversation might take either. Longer than would be acceptable for her to excuse herself to talk to him, surely. 

He knew what he wanted to do. Storm in there, play the Altus, and pull his slave out of the meeting because he needed her and everyone else be damned. That shamed him. Alvina was slave only in name, and for all he knew, she was talking to people who needed her help as much as Krem did. So he would need to come back later. Not that he wanted to go very far. If she was going to get more clients after these, he wanted to squeeze himself in. 

Some part of him considered wandering over to the barracks to talk to Krem, but he didn’t want to do it until he had a plan. Worst case scenario, he could disguise Krem with magic for the search. It might get dicey coming up with an explanation for a new person for the search, but he could always pass as someone passing through to learn from Alvina. That happened often enough, even if most of the time they weren’t learning sewing. 

And it would take more political sway than the army had in order to get a search that would include magical dispelling. Those were only authorized for suspected treason, and hiring someone who deserted from the army really wasn’t. It wouldn’t be a great solution, and it wouldn’t last for very long, but it didn’t make the situation less urgent. That made him calm down and take a breath. 

Only to realize he’d been pacing outside of Alvina’s cottage for several minutes. Though that wasn’t entirely out of character for him either. Not that he’d done it for several years, usually hoping she would help him circumvent some punishment or another from his parents. She never did, preferring instead to explain exactly why he was being punished, why she agreed with the punishment, and how to make sure it never happened again. 

Dorian turned to walk around the grounds until Alvina was ready for him, but the clients filed out of the shop before he could take a step. They had smiles on their faces, and it looked like the day’s business had gone well. All of their clothing was of a quality that made him think they were highborn clients, actually there for clothes. Lyrium slave brands on one of them, and a haunted look in their eyes. 

Alvina would be in a foul mood after being forced to wait on masters who kept a slave that looked cowed. She spotted him as he was closing the door behind her clients. One of her eyebrows slowly rose up her face as she took in his appearance, from the scowl, to his hair mussed from running his hands through it, to the track he’d worn in the dirt from pacing. 

There was a grim line to her mouth as she motioned him in. That boded well. Usually he would wait for her to speak first, but he didn’t know if he could this time. He was just proud when he managed to actually wait until the door was shut and no one could hear them before words came pouring out of his mouth. 

“Army people are going to search the grounds for Krem tomorrow. “We need to get him out of the country before they find him.” Dorian couldn’t keep the raw edge of panic out of his voice. 

“I already have a plan in place and a captain on standby. I always have one captain or another ready to take on cargo or a passenger in case I need it.” Alvina paused and turned, giving him a deliberate look, the one that meant she was trying to hide she had an agenda. It was subtle, and it took him years to notice she had one at all. “I was thinking there’s no way of knowing if he’ll be any safer out of the country. If he’s here, you’ll be able to protect him.” There was a startling thought. 

“I have no idea how I would manage to keep him here, he’s been accused of a very serious crime. I’m only an Altus. I don’t have enough political power to prevent the search or…” Alvina interrupted him, eyes flashing hard. 

“But you know someone who does.” Alvina’s jaw was jutting and she stared him down hard. She had her useless magister face on, the one she always got when people with too much power complained about their lives and uselessness. 

“But… That’s my father, I don’t know if he would be able to do anything.” Dorian’s so much dropped. “And there’s only one thing he would accept for using that much political power.” He got quieter and his voice trailed off. 

“Yes. And now you get to make a choice. Do you want to give up your own personal happiness to save a friend? More than that, you know how much good you can do if you find a wife and spend the rest of your life changing Tevinter, and raising people who will do the same.” Her hands were on her hips and her eyes were blazing. The last time he’d seen her like this was when she found out one of the cooks hit a slave. 

“It’s rushed, and I know you’ve probably got something like an hour to decide the course of your life. Protest changes from the outside and keep your freedom, or sacrifice some of your freedom and personal happiness and spend the rest of your life bettering the lives of everyone like you, like Krem.” Alvina finally finished, and Dorian blinked back at her. He’d been avoiding a match his whole life. 

It defined so many of his choices. Not wanting a match was why Alexius fished him out of a tavern and needed to show him that magic could be more of a restraint. It was why he followed Alexius, and wanted a patron instead of a wife, and it no doubt contributed to the random sex he had at parties. Some part of him figured he would give it up and make a match, possibly to please his family possibly because something would be worth altering his whole life. He just didn’t think it would come so soon. 

“I don’t know what to do here Alvina. I’ve spent my entire life thinking that a match was the worst thing for a man like me. My father and I have had fights about when it would happen until he gave up, figuring I would come to it on my own or I wouldn’t do it, and nothing he could say would change it.” Dorian hesitated. He felt so tired, even though his brain was going faster than he could imagine. “But going back to what you said earlier, how sure are you that he won’t be safe overseas?” Alvina shrugged, 

“To be honest? I don’t know what it’s like over there. I still get letters from time to time from people I’ve helped. I’ve never had a client like Krem before, so no one can tell me how friendly it is or isn’t. I just know that here, you have power.” There was the useless magister look on her face again. “You know for a certainty that Krem will remain under your protection, and any that harm him would face your wrath and political consequences. That would be difficult to guarantee elsewhere.” Alvina looked him dead in the eye. 

“And I am not going to lie, I’ve spent your life worried you wouldn’t be unable to inherit, because you misstepped outside of Magisterium laws or wouldn’t be willing to make a match. Or maybe you could inherit but wouldn’t be able to hold on to the estate, and then what would happen to me?” For someone who was talking about losing not only her livelihood but entire reason for being, she was remarkably calm. She just stood, looked him in the eye, and told him how she felt. No fidgeting involved. “There’s a reason I stay with your family, and I need a base for my enterprises. I can’t guarantee another family will do the same thing.” Her voice was hard, none of her usual affection. 

How he must look to her, a spoiled heir willing to throw away so much power for his own happiness. Alvina always had very definite ideas about how much she could say without swaying him, and it held true here. There was a mulish expression on her face, but she didn’t say anything more. Now was his time to think. He sank into one of the chairs and sighed. 

Alvina went back to working, her sounds more forceful than usual. Those clients must have been hard on her. His brain felt stuffed with anxiety and too many thoughts. All his life he’d made choices for himself, and for the first time he was realizing how remarkable that was. He didn’t have to worry about whether his family was provided for, like Krem. Unlike most people, he didn’t need to worry if he had food or clothing. All of his choices were about his wants, never his needs, or the needs of anyone else. 

And maybe that meant it was over. He’d enjoyed it, but there were more important things than what he wanted. But he could still walk away, throw Krem into the wind and trust someone else to take care of him. There was some appeal to that, because this was a choice that would determine the rest of his life. Krem’s life would also be determined by his choices, and that was what made up his mind. Besides, he could make it a condition that he would get at least some say in the matter. His parents loathed each other, but he needed to not loathe his wife. 

“Alright. I’ll speak to my father. Should I go directly to him, or are there other steps first?” Dorian knew he sounded weary and begrudging. Probably because he felt weary and begrudging. He would make the right choice, but he couldn’t pretend to be happy about it. 

“No more steps, it’s between you and your father now,” Alvina replied. Her tone was softer, and there was something that looked a lot like pity in her eyes. Dorian sighed. Tevinter, to him, was the people was well as the history, and he couldn’t claim to love it if he wasn’t willing to sacrifice for it. Some part of him still felt like a sell out for not trying to change the system from the outside. Krem just didn’t have enough time for him to figure that out. 

“I need a minute,” Dorian said so quietly he was worried Alvina didn’t hear him. She patted him on the back and left the shop, leaving him to collect himself. 

. . . 

Getting an appointment to see his father was usually an elaborate ritual. He would track down a slave, the slave would come back with a note and a suitable time. This seemed too urgent for such pageantry, so he went up to his father’s study to wait. 

When he got there, he heard voices, so he waited to knock. Urgent, yes, but there was no need to make his father angry when he was about to ask for a favor. And if he was being honest, it gave him more time to think about what he had to say. Because he needed to be very careful with every word he said or his father would get the wrong impression. Which was technically the right one, but his father needed to not know that or Krem might get shipped off to Maker only knew where. 

The hinges on the door creaked and it startled him out of his thoughts. The first enchanter exited, and gave him a nod of respect. Dorian took a deep breath and entered, to see his father standing with his sending crystal, it still glowing with power. Not surprising, considering his guest. What was surprising was that Halward smiled. 

“What can I do for you Dorian?” It was funny but Halward almost looked… Relaxed. That was about to change. 

“Ah. It’s a somewhat delicate matter. Do you have time right now?” Dorian could feel his pulse pounding, and was grateful for the training that kept his voice from shaking. Halward’s eyebrows raised slightly, and he dissipated any magic left in the sending stone. 

“I have time. Close the door.” There was a slight look of dread on Halward’s face. He hadn’t seen it since he gave up drinking, and stopped making nearly so many messes. Dorian shut the door, settling into himself as he realized this was not the worst thing he’d ever done. This was a thing he could be proud of, and his father would be too, if he laid it out correctly. 

“It’s nothing…” Dorian stopped, about to deny that this was a mess he’d made. He had, if very indirectly. “Crato has a lieutenant, and his name is Krem. I… Interrupted several army members attempting to rape him.” Halward’s face went hard. He’d been fighting for better treatment of army troops for as long as he’d been fighting for circle funding. Dorian continued. 

“It took four men that he severely wounded to pin him down, and I decided that such a man would be better put to use serving House Pavus. Because of the circumstances, I figured the army would be too ashamed to collect him, but now they are accusing him of being a woman. As such, they’re charging him with treason, which would mean his execution.” Halward held up a hand. 

“And you want me to stop it? The Magisterium is loathe to interfere with how the army runs things. Blocking an execution, no matter how unjust it is, might not be doable. And if it is, it will take so many favors and political power.” As always, Halward stood tall, not projecting his voice like he would for the Magisterium, but using the same tone. Like a pillar of granite, and equally unmovable. “I could save many more lives by using Krem’s death as a stepping stone to investigate corruption in the army. Wrongfully executing such a skilled man is a grave injustice, but leaving House Pavus weakened over a single man could undo some of the progression I’ve spent years building.” 

“Yes. I know. That’s why I am willing to make my match within the next year if you can keep him as Crato’s lieutenant.” Dorian attempted not to rush through all of his words, instead delivering the announcement in a mirror of Halward’s posture and tone. “I want some say in the choice, but she’ll be political and will contribute to the Pavus bloodline.” 

Halward looked… Startled? There was something he’d never seen. Resigned, frustrated, annoyed. But never startled. 

“He must be someone to you in order for you to offer something you’ve been fighting your entire life.” Halward’s face was somewhere between a diplomatic mask and interest. The implied do you love this man hung awkwardly in the air between them. This was the part of the conversation where he needed to step carefully. 

“I’m not fond of the idea that someone can choose to dedicate their life to serving Tevinter, and then could have people attempt to rape them, and then after they left the army because they were nearly raped, execute them for desertion.” Dorian knew his tone sounded odd, with rage boiling under the surface. Now that he knew Krem better, what happened to him became all the more horrifying. He took a deep breath and forced himself to sound calmer as he spoke.

“I will admit we’ve had a few conversations because I wanted to make sure he was alright.” A pause to let himself think. “But this is because that he’s facing injustice in a system that’s rotting with it. It feels irresponsible of me to not use whatever power I can gather to change Tevinter into the place I know it can be.” Dorian smiled, hesitating a moment for comedic effect. “At least that’s what Alvina was telling me.” That made Halward laugh. He knew exactly how Alvina could be. 

“Alright. Before I make you promise, let me see if I can find any legal precedent for what we want to do. I want to make sure this is something I can do before we go any further.” Halward was powering up the sending stone, and waved Dorian out fo the view. When he went for the door, Halward motioned at him to stay. 

And the next half hour was spent watching as Halward contacted a very diverse bunch of mages. All of them said they would dive into books and get back. That took ten minutes, and then people started replying. Another ten minutes to pull together what everyone had found and figure exactly what favors would be needed to make it happen. Which thankfully turned out to be nothing, because the precedent was strong enough. House Pavus’ feud with the army for funding would become more bitter, but that wasn’t new. Krem could stay, and that made everything worth it. 

. . .

Dorian shuffled up the stairs to his tower. He’d woken up early and spent the entire day running from one unpleasant conversation to another. All he wanted was time alone in his tower to grieve for the life he was about to lose. There was a note stuck to his wards from Alvina. She set up a meeting with Krem at her cottage after dark, so Dorian could say good bye. Because even though Krem could stay, any contact with Krem would be improper. It could ruin his match chances, and if he broke this promise he didn’t want to know what sort of consequences his father would impose. 

Frantically, he took a deep breath and threw himself through his wards. The pressure popping when he made it into the tower ripped a sob out of him. Maker what had he been thinking? Foolish of him to assume no one would come looking for Krem. What did he know about the military, he was a mage?

What did he know about anything? Here he was, going to marry well and take over his father’s seat in the Magisterium, and he knew nothing. Not about tax structures, how to keep the Imperium running, or how many days of the year he was expected to actually do things. More simply, nothing about women or having a wife. This was not what he planned, wanted, or hoped for. A few tears leaked out of his eyes. 

Somehow Alvina’s note made this more real. He would have to explain to Krem exactly how he messed up, and how fixing it would hurt both him and Krem. Considering how unwilling he was to forgive himself, he couldn’t imagine Krem being any more willing. Stupid, careless, over-privileged idiot. 

Dorian felt magic building up, rising with his anger at himself and the situation. The whispering from demons got louder, and he forced himself to take a deep breath and let the power drain away. It wasn’t worth becoming an abomination. What he wanted was to not spend his life screaming on the inside, and maybe he could find some way to make this life livable. Even if he knew he would spend at least the next several months aching for Krem’s company.   
A stab went through his heart. Krem. Some of the voices and magic started to build back up, and Dorian took a deep breath. It was so unfair, for both him and Krem. But that didn’t matter now. This wasn’t what he needed to focus on if he was going to get through this. 

The first step would probably be disassembling his laboratory. But maybe he could keep experimenting for a while? It varied, for couples, whether they continued magical research or spent more time in politics. It usually depended on the goals of the family. House Pavus was very political and progressive.

Their agenda focused on trying to make sure blood magic was kept to a minimum, education was provided for everyone with magical power, and then they focused on quality of life for the empire. And Dorian agreed with many of those things. Even if he thought quality of life should be expanded to include men like him and Krem. And allowing women to serve in every branch of the military. No one deserved to live their life in fear. 

Working towards those things could potentially be as important as any magical discovery he could make. Dorian took a hard look at his laboratory and the meager steps he’d managed to make in his research. He had darkspawn blood, contained in his tower wards, then a separate set of wards. Beakers and jars, a small fire, circles and runes etched and infused with lyrium. A couple of books were open on the table, along with a research journal. It all looked so.. Pathetic. 

What was he thinking he could do by himself? Wasn’t that part of the reason he fought with Alexius? They weren’t making anything resembling progress, and Felix got worse and worse. That was together, with someone who had decades of experience conducting magical experiments.

As to how it compared to politics… That he didn’t know. Attending balls for random sex didn’t tell him much about what making alliances and writing laws would look like. But his father often consulted with scholars, and people who dug through books to find legal precedent. There would be no great scandal if he made himself known as someone who was well read, and often knew about history and Tevinter’s laws. 

Dorian sighed. All this time and trouble to make himself a credible place to conduct magical experiments and he was going to take it down. Though if he had to guess where his life would end up, marrying a woman within a year was not what he would’ve thought. 

Well. He knew what he would be doing until it was time to meet Krem. Even if he was half tempted to keep the wards so the slaves wouldn’t try to tidy up. On the other hand, it was nice to go through his door while breathing. Another sigh. They could go, he supposed. 

. . . 

The darkspawn blood had been disposed of, the shutters opened, and the wards dispelled. He’d left the small spell on the stairs that let him know when someone was coming, because that was useful. Now he was reading and waiting for it to go off. 

It took about half an hour , and he was halfway through his text on how the Magisterium government worked. The text had been a gift from a father on his thirteenth birthday, before Halward gave up on attempting to make him become respectable. Dorian bookmarked his place and walked over to the door, although he waited to hear a knock before he opened it. Much to his surprise, Alvina herself was at the door. Stairs were hard on her. He opened his mouth to say so, but she interrupted him. 

“Krem’s at my place, and I wanted a minute to talk to you alone. This way people will more likely assume you’re coming to get a scolding or something, not meeting someone else” Alvina started down the steps and he headed after her. “I wanted to thank you for what you’re doing. I know Krem might not, and I can see how hard all of this has been on you.” Alvina waved at his tower and the now dismantled laboratory. “You’ve given up your research and I know it meant a lot to you.” 

“I think it was more that Alexius meant a lot to me, and Felix means a lot to me. But I don’t know that I would be able to discover anything, I’ve always had more luck with books.” Dorian sighed. If he kept this up, he would become a bellows. 

“And I’m glad that I know the house will be in good hands when you inherit.” Alvina gave him a soft smile. “And I don’t know how much that will help to hear, and I know this isn’t the course for your life that will make you the happiest.” 

“You know, I think happiness varies. I don’t think I would’ve been terribly happy with myself if I let you smuggle Krem out of the country. I would’ve spent the rest of my life worried for his safety, and thinking myself a selfish coward.” Not that he would admit it to her, but he thought he also would’ve spent the rest of his life in the bottom of a bottle. 

Alvian headed for the stairs, and Dorian frowned as she took them one at a time. It didn’t take very long for her to be breathing hard. There was no tactful way to offer an arm or some form of assistance. As if she could hear his thoughts, she glared at him. 

“I’m fine, but this is why I always tell you to let the slaves know when you don’t need your lunch.” And with that, they spend the rest of the time on the long staircase in silence, only hearing the heavy breathing of two people not used to this much exercise. 

Dorian could feel his dread building the closer he got to Alvina’s cottage. Krem had always resented his arrogance, and what was this but the height of it? Alvina heard him starting to hyperventilate when they reached the bottom of the stairs and set a hand on his back. 

“I know you’re worried, but he’s not very mad at you, or he didn’t seem that way to me.” Alvina was speaking in the most soothing tone she could. It mostly worked, but she’d had much more practice using her scolding tone with him. Or maybe now he knew that there were things that couldn’t be fixed with a soothing voice. 

“I know, but this has all turned into something of a disaster.” Dorian stared at the cottage, equal parts dread and hope. Hope because he wanted to see Krem. Dread, because it would need to be the last time if he wanted Krem to stay. 

“Yes, and that happens sometimes,” Alvina replied. “But here’s one of the things I appreciate about Krem. He understands that. He, of all people, understands.” That made Dorian laugh. 

“Alright. I still expect there to be a good deal of shouting. I hope you have a good excuse setup.” The grin from his laughter slowly faded from his face as Dorian talked. 

“You do me no credit boy.” There was a slightly dangerous, although teasing, glint in her eye. “I just told him he’d be on his own if he made a fuss that jeopardized you. I might want him to stay where he can be protected, but I won’t risk your position in the process.” 

“That’s good to know at least. Thank you.” Dorian felt a little uneasy being confronted with how ruthless Alvina could be. She still cared for Krem, that seemed apparent, but if Krem jeopardized this plan, he would be gone. 

“Oh don’t thank me. If you get married and go into politics, my enterprises thrive. If the house loses standing, so do I.” Alvina gave him a hard look. “And if your father thought you were too attached to this boy, your deal would go out the window and he would never trust you again.” Dorian sighed to hear the words he’d been thinking to himself not long ago. 

“I know Alvina, I’m well aware.” It was strange to know she would look out for him carefully in some ways and leave him to drown in others. Not that he could blame her after the life she led. “But I’m at least calm enough to finish this now.” They’d stopped walking while he caught his breath, but he was getting to the point where no matter how bad this was, it was better than the anticipation. Not that it stopped him from shaking before he opened the door to Alvina’s cottage. Alvina came in to, to keep up the pretense, but stayed near the front, and shooed him in. 

“Take the bedroom,” she told Dorian. “I won’t be able to hear you. And I already told Krem the same.” Dorian nodded and walked to the back of the house, shutting the two doors he walked through behind him. 

“Krem.” He felt the name leave his lips and kicked himself. There was no need to sound this desperate. “I’m glad you’re alright.” That made it better. Maybe. Krem nodded. 

“Yeah. Alvina gave me the short version, what happened?” Krem didn’t look very angry. If anything, he looked concerned. And like he wanted to come over and kiss Dorian but that needed to not happen. It was going to be hard enough to leave already. 

“Apparently I was an idiot when I thought no one from the army would still be looking for you after a year.” Dorian shuddered, and Krem stepped forward to rest a hand on his shoulder. Dorian stepped back, hitting his knees on the bed. “No, because of the part I’m getting to. Alvina could smuggle you out of the country but…” He looked helplessly at Krem. “I don’t know if other places would be kind to men like you.” Krem interrupted him. 

“I hope you didn’t do anything drastic for my sake. I know can land on my feet and get settled anywhere.” Krem’s face was starting to echo some of the sorrow and concern Dorian knew was on his own. 

“I’m rather afraid drastic is what I did. I talked to my father, and he agreed to counter the army and keep you on as Crato’s lieutenant.” Dorian took a breath. “So long as I agreed to marry within the year.” 

“Ah.” Krem’s eyebrows drew together, the corners of his mouth turning down in a slight frown. Here came the anger. 

“And in order to have him go along with this, he needs to believe that you’re not more than a cause for me. I won’t be able to see you.” Dorian felt choked up but at least he could keep talking. 

“That’s alright, I’m more worried about you, because from the sound of it marriage isn’t really what you want.” Krem smiled at him, even though his tone was sad. “And I’ve never had anyone willing to go to such lengths to keep me safe.” Before Dorian could stop him, Krem came forward and kissed him. It was soft, not more than a second. “I’ll miss you, but I’ll be the best lieutenant your family could hope for.” Krem snapped a parade salute for him and marched out, with what Dorian thought might have been tears on his face. 

His own face would be covered in tears, except for the fact that he was mostly tired now, after the crying jag in his tower. So tired, in fact, that he was worried he wouldn’t be able to make it to his tower. But he couldn’t sleep here. He sighed, stood up, and started his walk. Knowing his luck, tonight would be a long night of insomnia, despite how much he wanted sleep. And the rest of his life would be like this. 

What fun.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's a day late because I am a space case who forgot it was the tenth. Go me, I'm so good at this. Apologies guys, next update will still be on the tenth.

     As all ballrooms seemed to be, this one was stuffy. Aggravated, of course, by the fact that it had been so hot today that the temperature didn’t go down with the sun. Here he was again with Caidy, the woman who he thought would make the perfect wife, if a wife was what he wanted. It had only been three days since he said goodbye to Krem, and he’d rather be moping and reading law books in his tower than here. But he was a man of his word and Alvina told him moping wouldn’t help his grief before telling him to get dressed in finery. So here he was at this dance, because his father and Caidy’s mother had decided that they approved if they wanted to make a match of it. Now they were sat down in a corner, on two luxurious chairs, drinking wine and having a chat. 

 

     The silence sat heavily between them, the gaze of his father and her mother making it difficult to relax. Then Dorian shrugged to himself and dove in. One of the criteria he’d set for his wife was the ability to have conversations without needing to tip toe. Only one way to find out if Caidy would roll with it. 

 

    “I know the last time we danced, you mentioned that you had some ideas on how magic could aid crop production, and thus reduce infant mortality in some provinces?” Dry and specific, but so was he. And this was the sort of thing he wanted the Magisterium to do more, to improve life for everyone. 

 

    “I do. My master and I have finished testing our potion, and have submitted all of the work to the Magisterium. It looks like it will help feed more of the army, as well as increasing the field output somewhat.” Caidy got an impish grin on her face. “But I prefer my field plowed, and that has big yields for me personally.” She winked at him. What in Thedas did that mean? He blinked. Right. Sex. She seemed to be implying she enjoyed it, and he would too. If only she knew… Also if she expected a great amount of sex she would be greatly disappointed. Maybe if he changed the subject it would get better?

 

     “A cause of mine is the historical society. I adore that Tevinter has so much history, and a wealth of knowledge. It’s been around for as long as man can remember.” Dorian was struck by something. “Though sometimes it seems like we haven’t learned from history very much, and we keep making the same mistakes.” The left side of his mouth lifted in half a smile. “Part of me wonders if we spent more time studying history if we’d do better.”

 

     “Maybe. At the same time, part of me wonders if we’d do better moving on, and not clinging so much to tradition. We’re old, sure, but we’ve managed to stay alive as the Imperium because we adapt.” Caidy smirked at him, and Dorian sighed. Here they went again, topic change or not. He wondered how she could possibly make this about sex. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything, just gave him a look that held a promise. Maker this was awkward. Had he picked wrong? Dorian gave her a not interested sort of smile and moved onto another topic. 

 

     “What do you like to do when you aren’t researching crop growing potions?” Dorian loathed that small talk was starting to come out of his mouth. Banal small talk, but banal small talk was better than talking about sex with a woman. All relationships also had to start somewhere, and it was always awkward. Except for with Krem. After the initial awkward rescue, conversations were easy. 

 

     “Usually I like to garden. It sounds dumb, I know, but there’s something about having my hands in the dirt, and making plants grow without magic…” There was a dreamy look on her face that didn’t show up when she was talking about sex. Not that he understood the hobby or the dreamy look, but at least it wasn’t a conversation about sex or magic. “What about you?” That was surprising. More surprising was that she seemed genuinely interested in the answer. 

 

     “Well, I usually read. It’s boring for most people after a day of reading about spells, but I love getting lost in fiction, and I love learning more about whatever I can.” It occurred to Dorian that they both felt the need to justify their hobbies. Either that said something about Tevinter, or they were similar people. That could make for a good match. Until Caidy got that twinkle in her eye again. 

 

     “And I enjoy… Certain pleasures. I hear my mouth is good for more than talking.” Her voice was pitched to it wouldn’t carry but it still made Dorian jump. He had no way to tell her that was not a selling point for him. Even if it did make him hard because he was thinking about Krem’s mouth on him. Or… Maybe he could tell her?

 

     “Personally, I find talking one of my favorites but to each their own.” Dorian was surprised when Caidy sagged in relief at his words. 

 

   “That’s a relief to hear. My friends assured me that boys our age are going to be most entranced by what we can do in bed. It seemed silly to me, seeing as I have no interest in that sort of thing, but I liked you and really wanted to impress you. It’s difficult to find someone whose politics match mine and my mother actually approves. Everything I was saying just felt so awkward, but I wanted this to work so I figured it was worth trying, to the point I practiced…” Caidy realized what she was saying and blushed. Dorian just laughed. 

 

     “That’s alright. I can tell you I have no interest in what happens in bed, and I like you as much as you like me, for the same reasons. At some point, we might need to worry about heirs, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it.” Dorian felt a surge of relief and he could tell Caidy did too. 

 

    “I know in Tevinter it’s common enough to take other lovers, but I have no interest in that either,” Caidy continued and Dorian’s heart sunk a little. “But I don’t mind if you take them, provided you take precautions against pregnancy.” That made Dorian smile. Getting any lover of his pregnant seemed wildly unlikely, before he remembered Krem. He had no idea what sort of anything Krem had, and he felt guilty for assuming. But knowing he could have lovers on the side eventually, so long as he was discreet, was relieving. Krem, or anyone, deserved better than to be someone on the side, but maybe he could find an outlet he wouldn’t hurt, some other Tevinter man matched and married, but eager for something that actually satisfied. 

 

     “Sounds like we’d have things worked out then,” Dorian said with a smile. This was going better by the minute. Halward motioned him over. “But it looks like I have more duties to pursue for the house.” Dorian gave her a smile, and headed over to his father. 

 

     The rest of the night was spent somewhat similarly, although it involved much more dancing. It would be improper of him to come to a dance and devote all of his time to one woman. Or that’s what his father told him. Then he looked bleak, his father looked concerned, and said that it didn’t matter that much.  Somehow there were entire conversations that involved very few words between them. Many of them started with a concerned look from his father, which was baffling. This match was something he’d wanted, and pushed for. But now… It was odd. 

 

    Those concerned looks followed him as he dragged himself to different women to ask them to dance. None of them were as interesting as Caidy, but there were one or two he might want to get to know better. And part of what made Caidy interesting was that he already knew she wouldn’t expect much except heirs from the bedroom. And he might not need to worry about getting to know anyone else, if the dinner tomorrow with he and Caidy worked out. That would mean an end to these dances, with pretty men in finery he couldn’t touch without fear of upsetting his father. And maybe if he got this over with soon enough, he could get to the point where he could have other lovers. Not that that seemed likely, all things considered. 

 

**. . .**

 

    Dorian stood in front of his mirror and critically eyed his hair. Caidy might not care or have any interest in how attractive he was, but his father, who was chaperoning this dinner, certainly would. Instead of his ceremonial altus robes, Alvina had made him something special. It was a typical set of robes, with the crest of House Pavus on the chest. He’d been fitted a for it a few times, Alvina insisting that it fit as closely to his shoulders as she could it get it. It made him look attractive, and he didn’t fight her on that. His father would be pleased, even if the crest went against fashions. 

 

   When he asked her why she put the crest on the robes, instead of something more subtle, she said that he was doing his duty to serve House Pavus, and he deserved to look like it. Which didn’t make any sense to him, because most mages would rather look like anything but servants. She insisted he would start a new fashion, even if embroidering a crest took so long that there was a reason people didn’t do it. 

 

    People had been using the cheaper option for so long, why was she trying to change the tide now? Then he grinned. He was going into this to change centuries of tradition, or make as much of a dent as he was capable. Suddenly the crest seemed poetic instead of stupid and costly. Alvina was with him, no matter what happened, and this robe as a reminder of that. 

    Hair firmly in place, Dorian headed towards the dining room. He was reminded of the formal dinner he had with the First Enchanter. Hopefully this one would be better for his future plans. He’d hate to have another awkward conversation about what to not expect from him in bed. Although he wondered how many people in Tevinter slept with their spouse and only their spouse. If he and Caidy were anything to go by, it might not be very many people. Which begged the question, why keep doing this? 

 

    Dorian sighed. This wouldn’t get him anywhere. Dinner. And conversation with Caidy, he could actually have in front of his father.  That might be a challenge considering the way their last conversation went. Then he reminded himself that she wasn’t interested in such things, and that was why they were having the dinner. So that should be better, and they could talk about things that did interest her. 

 

    The dining room looked beautiful. It was lit with the silver lamps, instead of candles like last time. The table was longer, and somehow it looked less like it was supposed to be a romantic dinner for two. Even if that’s technically what it was, chaperone or not. But it was nice, and when Caidy walked in, he smiled. She looked lovely in her robes, with a touch of cosmetic sand hair in artful braids that looked like they took hours to put together. She walked to the table, and they both sat. Halward came rushing in a moment later to take his place. 

 

     “I hope you two didn’t spend too much time without you. Wouldn’t want to be improper.” Halward actually winked at Dorian. Inwardly he sighed, glad he’d already had that conversation with Caidy in case she noticed. Just like his father to do something that made this evening worse. 

 

    “No, father, we both just got here,” Dorian gave his father a tight smile, and Caidy a more natural one. No need for her to think he was frustrated with her. It might be nice if his father picked up on the frustration and behaved himself. 

 

     “I know you mentioned your crop growing potion, do you and your master have a plan for what you want to research next?” Dorian knew he could talk about his research for hours, and hoped Caidy would be the same. 

 

     Actually, I’m starting to reach a point in my life where I’m considering leaving research altogether. It’s about time for me to get married, and I find myself more drawn to politics and law making.” One of the kitchen slaves brought out food as Caidy spoke. It impressed Dorian when she paused to murmur a thank you. 

 

    “I find myself in the same situation,” he replied. “I’d thought of continuing my research when my master wanted to spend time with his family, but I love books so much more than I love experimental procedure. That made me wonder if I couldn’t be one of those people my father contacts when he needs someone to look up legal precedent of varying ages.” There he gave a fond look to his father. And then looked down at his plate to hide the sadness as he thought about Krem, and the last time his father needed a legal expert. 

 

    “Personally, I think I might get bored with that. I like people  too much, talking to them. I’ve found myself more drawn to doing the work in the council. I know it’s more boring procedure than talking to people, but then there’s also giving speeches and persuading people.” Caidy started eating as she finished, swirling the wine in her glass and taking a small sniff before nodding in approval. So she liked wine. Dorian could get behind that. 

 

     “Oh yes, public speaking. I can see why that would entice you.” The sarcasm in Dorian’s voice was heavy, but the smile on his face negated the sting. 

 

     “I know. Makes me an oddity to enjoy something some people fear so much. But I do enjoy it, and doing something that feels concrete, that accomplishes something. Much of the time, research is trial and error, and my master and I found so many dead ends. It’s unbelievably frustrating to say the least.” She was so poised, and all of the things she said sounded like she would make a good partner. Even if it might make him ache. She would be a friend, not someone to bed and love, but that was better than his parents. “And I know politics has a certain amount of dead ends, but I can have reasoned conversations with other politicians, I can’t talk to a crop growing potion and convince it to work.” 

 

    “When you put it like that, how you want to work in the Magisterium and give speeches, it almost sounds like we’d make for a decent team.” At least he managed to pull the sadness out of his voice to seem playful. Caidy bought it, grinning at him, but his father was giving him another one of those odd looks. It almost looked like pity. 

 

     “You know it does,” Caidy replied, and Dorian grinned at her. They could flirt and say the most outrageous things and it didn’t need to go anywhere. It was refreshing, in a way, because he enjoyed flirting and verbal banter. This was a woman he could have fun with, and that started to lighten his mood. Maybe she was someone he could live with. 

 

    The rest of the dinner left him with the same feeling. She was either incredibly funny, or they shared the same sense of humor. Either boded well for a match. And he only missed Krem once, when she mentioned the civil guard of her house. It made for a nice change from a constant ache, and he wondered if Alvina was right about moping. It was nice, even if he kept getting those odd looks from his father. 

 

**. . .**

 

    The next week passed in the same fashion; pleasant dinners with Cassidy, strange looks from his father, and a budding optimism for his new life. Negotiations were in place to finish    his engagement to Caidy, and everything was alright. Except for the heart wrenching moment he bumped into Krem. Somehow that moment was etched into his memory five days later. It had been foggy, and as he walked towards Alvina’s cottage, he literally ran into Krem. It wasn’t until the soldier was helping him off the ground that he realized who he bumped. A warm feeling spread up Dorian’s arm. The touch chased away the chill of the fog, until he remembered he was supposed to let go. He didn’t say anything, just game Krem a smile. There was a blush on Krem’s cheeks so Dorina knew the soldier was as affected as he was, and he didn’t want to make it worse. 

 

    The chance meeting made him angry for a day, which he expected. What he didn’t expect was that his father seemed to notice. The cook prepared his favorite dishes that night, he got a kind glance, and there was a small basket with some gold from his father. The note said it was for books. Wasn’t that unexpected. None of it entirely helped. Time did, a little. 

 

     More surprising, Caidy did. She made him laugh. Her shoulders weren’t as nice as Krem’s. He would never want to kiss her, and she couldn’t make him hard the way Krem could. But she could make him laugh. And that was enough, for right now. That made him smile. 

 

     For now, he was in his tower, watching the rain fall down the window. There was a book in his lap, but the rain was just as interesting. He felt at peace. After the whirlwind of dinners, relaxing alone was exactly what he needed. The rain running down the window was soothing him, nearly to the point where he was drifting off… 

 

    It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t dreaming Felix’s panicked voice. “Dorian! My magic is flickering in and out, I don’t know if it’s working!” Dorian couldn’t see Felix, like if he was standing at a sending stone, but the voice came through well enough. 

 

    “I can hear you Felix,” Dorian replied, sending his magic into the connection to try to stabilize it. Without the proximity of a sending stone, it was difficult to know where to aim, and only the barest trickle of his power was getting through. 

 

    “I wasn’t sure the sending spell would work with my magic like this.” Felix’s voice wavered before coming back. “You have to help father, he’s gone mad.” Felix’s voice cut out, and only a few words made it through the shuddering stream of magic now pouring over Dorian. “... venatori… he’s going to redcliffe…. come soon please!” Then the most horrifying silence of Dorian’s life settled over his tower. 

 

     “Felix?” Dorian tried to send magic back up the connection, but it was gone. He hoped Felix’s voice would come back in half a second. When it didn’t, he was bolting toward his father’s study. He threw open the door and some part of his brain noticed his father’s absence and the strange circle on the floor. 

 

    The rest of his attention was on the sending stone. He shoved magic into it, and sent his will towards Felix. Who had somehow disappeared. The sending stone couldn’t find Felix, which meant he’d either have traveled so far out of Tevinter that it was out of range, or his magic wasn’t recognizable with the blight raging through his body. One of them seemed more likely, considering Felix had just been at his father’s sending stone a few moments ago. 

 

     Maybe Halward would have some ideas for how to clean up the magical interference from the blight. Dorian was turning away from the stone to look for his father when the papers on the desk caught his eye. They were marked “For Dorian,” and his curiosity was piqued. 

 

    The longer he read, the colder he felt. This was some sort of twisted ritual. It was supposed to change him, make him feel about women as he did men. This was a sort of twisted he couldn’t believe from his father. He couldn’t tell if he felt more angry or sick. 

 

    More, he didn’t know whether he was more hurt or confused. He was giving his father exactly what he wanted. He’d given up everything he’d dreamed of, all in order to please his father and save Krem. Somehow that didn’t matter. Somehow Magister Pavus was unhappy with his son being a deviant, even if he was going to hide it. 

 

    If his father was willing to force this change on him, he didn’t need to stick around and risk becoming a vegetable. Some day for Alvina, he would come back and take care of the house. And his honor would require him to marry Caidy. So now he couldn’t make sure he could take care of Krem, and he would still make a match. 

 

     But all of these problems were for another day. For right now, he needed to distance himself from Tevinter, and he needed to help Felix. Luckily both of those things could be accomplished at the same time. Alvina would know how to get him to Redcliffe. Little wonder she was always complaining that she only saw him when there was a crisis. Even if she griped, he had no doubt she would be as furious with Halward as he. 

 

**. . .**

 

Dorian’s feed thudded down the stairs as fast as they could take him, even though he was breathing hard. The longer he thought about the ritual, the more it scared him. Who even thought up something like that? But Alvina could get him on a boat to Redcliffe tonight if her statements about her contacts were true. 

 

    He shuddered. Both Alexius  and Halward had told him plenty of stories about blood magic gone wrong. Which made it all the more surprising that Halward was willing to try it. Didn’t his son’t sanity matter more to him whether or not he could play a convincing charade? Clearly not. And more than that, it stung that his father couldn’t accept who he was. 

 

    The walls of the cottage were in his sight when he tripped on a rock. He was on all fours, distracted by the thought of getting up when the sick feeling overcame him. Acid rolled up his throat and he retched. Alvina came out of the cottage, a small glass of water in her hands. She waited until he stopped making noise to hold it out to him. He groaned as he stood up, taking the glass. 

 

     “I’m guessing you’re puking in front of my cottage because of a private matter that can’t wait and not because you’re drunk. If you were drunk, I don’t think you’d be foolish to come back after last time.” Alvina’s words flowed over Dorian as he rinsed his mouth out and spat. “But can you make sure you’re done before we go inside so I don’t have to clean it up?” Dorian looked Alvina in the eye so she could see for herself that he wasn’t drunk. 

 

    “I’m done,” He said with more surety than he felt. Alvina just sighed, grabbed the glass from him to dump out the rest of the water, and handed it back. 

 

    “You puke anywhere but in there, you clean it up yourself. I hope you can aim.” With that, she walked into the shop. Dorian followed, suddenly glad he wasn’t drunk. He didn’t remember the last time, because he’d been too drunk. Probably just as well he’d given up liquor if he couldn’t remember one of Alvina’s punishments. He followed her in, debating how much to tell her. 

 

    “Can you get me on the next boat to Redcliffe?” Dorian went for the less is more approach. 

 

     “Yes, I can. I know every captain in port. Two are going to Redcliffe. I can blackmail one to get you a free safe but unpleasant trip. The other will take 5 gold but it will be the most comfortable trip of your life. But the larger question is why would I want to?” Alvina gave him a look that was somewhere between bewildered and angry. The less is more approach never worked with Alvina but that didn’t seem to stop him from trying. He filled her in, and Alvina nodded. 

 

     “Why don’t you go and get packed, and meet me back down here?” Dorian understood the words coming out of Alvina’s mouth but not why. 

 

     “Why would I need to pack? Isn’t it more important for me to get out of here before my father finds me?” Dorian couldn’t help the note of panic creeping into his voice. 

 

    “You and I both know that rituals take time. Your father hasn’t had the time to get enough blood or lyrium together yet.” Before Dorian could ask how, she continued “I keep tabs on the trade. Even if he was going to get blood from slaves, he’s going to need time to gather it all, and none of them have gone missing or reporting being bled a small amount. So you have at least a few hours, and I know that neither you nor I have the gold to buy you everything you’re going to need.” That made a certain amount of sense. 

 

    “Alright. I know I’m going to have to carry all of this myself and I’m not sure what I should prioritize.” Dorian knew he should ask an expert, because he had no idea what he was doing. All his life he’d lived with everything he needed. 

 

     “I’m not a mage, I don’t know what you’re going to need! Whatever magic gear you think you’ll need to meet with Felix that you can safely carry. As far as clothes, bring one extra set and no more if you can help it, though you’ll want a few more underthings. Throw that into a backpack. You’ll want to take some gold, sew that into the lining of both robes. I know your father, he won’t destroy your books, so don’t worry about those. You’ll just need to survive.” Alvina paused clearly thinking hard. 

 

    “Take one book, to comfort you and keep you going on the trip. Make sure there’s plenty of room in the backpack with your magical gear. It’s going to get chilly before you know it, so you’ll also probably need a coat…” Alvina’s voice faded slightly as she wandered into another room. She came back with a leather backpack. “Go put what you need in here, and then come back. I’ll need to gather some of the other things you’ll need.” Alvina shooed him out the door, and he headed for his room. 

 

     When he looked back, she was going to the guardhouse instead of the kitchen, like he expected. That was odd. Dorian shrugged. He hoped she wasn’t going to try to pack him a knife or other weapon. He had no idea how to use it. 

 

     But he needed to focus. He turned, anxiety causing him to go over what he would need as he climbed the stairs. By the time he cracked the door, he knew he wanted to bring his leather outfit, with the buckles over the shoulder and the leather pants. Which meant packing the bit he could slip on over it, because the idea of walking around outside with one shoulder made him shiver. He’d stay warm, thanks. And he knew what book he wanted to bring before his feet were on the steps to his tower. It would be shame book. It might cause unfortunate erections, but it would remind him of home, and everything good about Tevinter. 

 

    HIs mind drifted through gathering up the book, his staff, and all of the lyrium he’d gathered together. Dorian thought about Caidy, and how he would need to leave a letter so she didn’t think he was breaking his promise. Normally, he would trust his father to make such assurances for him. But normally, his father wouldn’t come up with half planned blood magic rituals to change his son. So he wrote a quick note, saying something had come up with Alexius. He was going to keep his promise, it just might need to wait until after he’d taken care of his patron. Caidy had become a friend, and he didn't want to leave her to a match that she would hate more than him. 

 

   Then he strapped the staff to his back in its holder, carefully packed the lyrium in in its bottles with some cloth, and headed back to Alvina, letter in his hand. Despite her reassurances, he wanted to be away from here as fast as he could manage. When he got back to her cottage, Alvina was there, leading Krem in. Any thoughts of leaving left his head. Alvina put her finger on her lips and led them all inside. 

 

    “I’ve talked to both Krem and Crato, and they both agree that you need someone to go with you for this harebrained adventure. IT’s dangerous out there, and not everyone will respect magisters.” Alvina’s hands were on her hips, eyes just daring him to challenge her. 

 

    “I don’t need looked after by a nursemaid, thanks very much. I have magic, and I can take care of myself.” What Dorian wasn’t saying was that he didn’t think he could keep his promise to Caidy if he spent Maker knew how long traveling with Krem. “Besides, didn’t I bargain with my father to make a match so Krem could stay here and stay under the protection of House Pavus?” Alvina grinned. That was never good. 

 

    “Weren’t you just saying you had magic and could take care of yourself? Won’t he be under the protection of House Pavus if he’s with you?” Alvina’s had the same twinkle they did when she caught him lying as a child. “Besides, there’s no guarantee what travel will be like for you. Do you know how to find wood if it’s raining, cook on a fire, find your way by following a map?” This was Alvina’s “I have you by the short hairs look.” Krem didn’t seem to be trying too hard to hide his smirk either. 

 

     “You know very well I can’t do any of those things.” She hadn’t listed making fire, or Dorian might have had at least one thing on that list he could do. 

 

     “I do, so take me with you, and your life will be much easier,” Krem added. A stubborn zeal was in his eyes, the same ferocious determination that had been there when he insisted that he didn’t need Dorian’s help. Last time, it had been worth it to make Krem see reason. It was his turn to see reason. Even if every bit of him liked the idea too much, and he wanted to be more honorable than that part of himself. 

 

     “Alright, I see your point, Krem, you can join me.” Dorian looked down, and smiled to notice Krem had a backpack at his feet. If he hadn’t agreed, he suspected Krem would’ve followed him. Like how he was following Felix. The thought warmed him somehow, even if he worried the warmth would make it even harder to keep his word. 

 

     “Now that that’s settled,” Alvina grabbed Dorian’s bag, and began pulling everything out of the backpack to repack it, probably with the rations and fire starter kit on the table. Of course she had to pull out the book. Krem saw it and gave him… some look he couldn’t quite interpret. Which made him blush. Then Krem smirked. Clearly he was never going to live this book down. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't originally want this to be a chapter, but Krem and Dorian had other ideas. Because I absolutely refused to have the trip from Minrathous to Redcliffe be more than one chapter, this one is double the length of some of the earlier chapters. Thank you to dreabean (http://archiveofourown.org/users/dreabean/pseuds/dreabean) for the beta and making this much better.

    Dorian was standing at the deck rail, looking over the water and willing the ship to move faster. There wasn't much to do on a boat, and it was making him anxious. This was only the first leg of the journey, so the rest of it could only get worse. He didn’t know how much time Felix had, and the only comfort he had was that Felix and Alexius would be travelling mostly by carriage. It was slower, but ultimately more comfortable and allowed for more things that Felix needed to be easily accessible. 

 

    The small map Alvina included was burned into his brain, because the only thing he feared more than not getting there in time was not getting there at all. And there were a lot of steps to getting to Redcliffe. This was probably the easiest, despite his restlessness. It was simple. Take a ride in the free boat Alvina found, and get off in Vyrantium. Thus far, it had been two days, and there would be a third until the Nocen Sea ended and the river began. 

 

    He’d have to spend some of the gold he saved by blackmailing the captain to buy passage on a river barge. The barge would take two days, because it was mostly fast, white water. Nerve wracking, considering there were shifts of crew that would make sure the barge didn’t hit anything that would punch a hole. It was safe, and the crew were well practiced, but Dorian wasn’t looking forward to it, all the same. 

 

    The part he was looking forward to the least would be after the river ended. It took people who were experienced with long walks and heavy burdens two days to walk from the river to the Imperial Highway, and he was experienced with neither. Alvina had written on his map that it would probably take him three or four days to walk that same distance. However long, it wouldn’t be fun. 

 

    There would be a mild relief once he got to the crossroads of the Imperial Highway. There would be inns, and he and Krem could buy horses. Not that they would own horses for very long, really only two days, because they would ride those horses south on the Imperial Highway, until they got to the Waking Sea, where the poor things would be sold, and the money from the selling would go to fare on yet another boat. 

 

    This boat would take them through the Waking Sea, and into Lake Calenhad. By that point, Dorian fully expected to sleep himself silly, because after three days of walking and another two of riding, all while sleeping on the ground, he figured he’d want to rest. With all his might, he wished he could just be in Redcliffe already, but travelling never worked like that. Much to the dread of anyone who wanted to be anywhere other than where they were. 

 

    Now, the lack of distractions was making him restless and bored. The only time the captain had wanted him to use magic to speed their way had been to get out of the harbor. Otherwise, the winds had been more than enough to propel the boat, and there was no sense risking the mast. Of course this wouldn’t be a ship that had magical protections, so that the mast wouldn’t shatter if he lost his concentration or got too tired. This is what he got for saving gold, clearly. 

 

    There was his book, but he’d already read it. Which was awkward, with Krem often in the cabin, so he skipped certain scenes. Not that it would’ve mattered much, at this point he’d already read it so many times it was starting to become normal. And he’d had enough sleep to last him awhile, considering he would sleep when the cabin was dark. Which was always, unless he wanted to read and bothered to fill the small oil lamp. 

 

     Krem headed towards his spot on the rail, a smile on his face. Dorian offered a smile in return, heart clenching painfully. He missed that smile. 

 

     “Took me a while to find you, you’re usually in the galley for meals and stay in the cabin otherwise.” Krem’s voice made his cock twitch, which was unbearable. Clearly his cock was a traitor, considering the rest of him thought his voice made the boat tolerable. 

 

    “Ah. I was starting to get restless. I’m anxious whenever I don’t have something to distract me, and I’ve already read the one book Alvina allowed me.” While they were on the ship, they had food and water out of the stores, but the two of them needed to carry enough to get them to the crossroads. Hunting was always chancy, and the weight would be worth not going hungry. 

 

    “I might have a cure for that, if you trust me.” Between the playful lilt in Krem’s voice and the full toothed grin, Dorian’s heart started racing. 

 

    “Krem… I…” Dorian paused, gathering himself. He didn’t entirely want to say it, but it was necessary. “I know it might seem silly considering what my father had planned. But I have every intention of keeping my promise to Caidy. She’s a good woman, and she deserves more than a spouse who believes he’s owed her body.” Krem gave him an admonishing look. 

 

    “I figured that, you’re too honorable for me to think otherwise. Not to mention you didn’t want me coming.” Krem got wide eyed as he realized what he was saying. Dorian carefully schooled his face to make it look like he had no idea. Better for both of them if he didn’t respond. He was still tempted though. “But I was thinking we could play cards,” Krem finished as he held up a deck. 

 

    “I’ve only ever played wicked grace, but it certainly sounds better than staring at the sea, wishing I had more books,” Doran replied. Krem laughed, and Dorian smiled. They both walked to the cabin, Krem lighting the lamp on the wall on the way in. Dorian noticed it was full. Krem had been planning ahead, and figured he would want something to do. Strange to have someone look after him because they cared about him, and not what he represented or the gold he could provide. Everything the way he wanted it, Krem settled on the floor. 

 

    “I thought about rearranging some of the crates in here like a table and two stools, but we’d have to secure them when we were done, and if it got rough while we were were using them…” Krem trailed off. Dorian pictured crates slamming everywhere, including into them. One of them could even rip the two hammocks strung across one side of the room. The crates wouldn’t have to go far, Dorian didn’t need to extend his hand all the way in order to touch the lower hammock. 

 

    “That’s alright, I’m not too proud to sit on the floor.” He tucked his robe under him, sitting in a way that  wouldn’t show Krem everything under his robe. He imagined it looked rather snobbish, but he could only undo so much of his upbringing. 

 

    “Alright, wicked grace would obviously require more players than we have. But there are a few more card games I know. Usually they’re for when a small group of people are off watch at a time. I learned some from Crato when we needed to do something less tiring than sparring.” 

 

    “That makes sense. I imagine you’d be pretty tired after training recruits all day.” Dorian was surprised when Krem grinned at him. 

 

    “Not really. It’s nothing compared to actual battle. Sometimes we’d spar to keep our wind up, make sure that we stayed in shape just in case we ever needed to fight again. After that though, we’d talk about the recruits over cards.” Krem talked as he shuffled a deck of cards. The sound was oddly soothing. 

 

    Between that and Krem’s words, he quieted. He’d forgotten what it was like to have a friend. He had help, and a warrior with him. Maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible thing, going after Felix. Temptation didn’t matter as much now that he knew Krem understood, and now he wasn’t restless and anxious, which was always good. 

 

    “Yeah, there were card games at the circle, but you could never really play one without four or five people asking if they could join in, so wicked grace became the default. Even when I would escape to the taverns, it was wicked grace. Although there it was silver, instead of whatever we could find to bet in the tower.” Dorian finished as Krem nodded in reply, dealing the cards as he explained what was about to happen. 

 

    The next several hours passed in a similar fashion. They swapped stories about their lives and people they met. Dorian got to learn more about what it was like for Krem to serve in the army. Until the end, it was a good part of his life. He got to fulfill his duty to his country, do something he was good at, and send money back to his family. 

 

     In return, Dorian got to talk about the stifling upbringing of the circle, and how much trouble he would get himself into when he broke out. There were a few ribald tales of breaking into taverns, and picking pockets to buy himself ale. He touched on Alexius slightly, mostly talking about the man who showed him that magic could go beyond the circle, and teach him about himself. He could use it to change the world, and wouldn’t that be wonderful. 

 

    By the time they were both tired enough to sleep, and the oil lamp was running low, Dorian was satisfied with the day. Friends, especially soporati friends, still felt new. Felix was really the only other friend he had, and he was younger, and needed someone to look out for him. Especially considering his boyhood crush on Dorian. Dorian would worry about predatory men, but Alexius had become so protective since Felix came down with the blight that he doubted worry was necessary. 

 

    Not to mention that Felix would probably be dead before he got a chance anyway. And with that depressing thought, he willed the boat to get to Redcliffe faster. He might not be able to cure the blight, but he could certainly be there when Felix asked. At least tomorrow, they would be at the river. 

 

**. . .**

 

    Dorian didn’t think anything could get worse than the restlessness on the boat. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Walking to the crossroads was definitely worse. Redcliffe motivated him to the point where he pushed himself, and collapsed at night. 

 

    This left Krem taking care of all of the camp duties, but he didn’t mind. He just laughed Dorian off when he offered, saying that he could go farther carrying more. Dorian was amazed at Krem finding wood, letting Dorian catch it on fire with magic, preparing trail rations, and laying out both bedrolls under a few pieces of canvas that could generously be called a tent. All that, and he could still encourage Dorian to eat, then make sure he was tucked into a bed roll. One night he remembered murmuring,  _ if you were a woman I’d marry you. _ Embarrassing, even if it was true. Krem smiled, and told him to get some rest. 

 

    By the middle of the third day, they arrived at the crossroad, and Dorian was fantasizing about mattresses. And a roof. And something to eat other than trail rations. But mostly a mattress. Something softer than the ground. Dorian held out a full gold coin from his neck purse to Krem. 

 

    “Will this get us a night’s stay?” Dorian asked. Krem motioned at him to put it away. 

 

    “Yes, as well as trail rations for the next week and part of a horse. Put that away, before we get robbed.” Krem was hiss whispering, and Dorian quickly got it, tucking the coin away before anyone saw it. 

 

    “Alright.” Dorian fished out a handful of silver. “Will that be better?” 

 

    “Yes. How would you like to play this? It’s going to be easier if you let me handle the negotiations, and it’s common enough for guards to take care of these things.” Krem paused. “Most magisters wouldn’t get an extra room for their guards.” There was an awkward pause. 

 

     “We’re not exactly trying not to be found Krem. I appreciate you not assuming I would pay for your room, but I think we would both be more comfortable with the space after that tiny cabin on the ship.” His cock twitched at the idea of space. Not that he wanted his leavings on the sheet for some poor maid to clean up. The more animal part of him liked the idea of him sharing a room with Krem, but the honorable part of him knew it was better to avoid temptation. “And thank you for taking care of things like this, I know I am a useless magister in so many ways.” 

 

    “That’s no problem, and thank you for taking care of the money.” Krem gave Dorian a shy smile.

 

    “Besides, between what I and Alvina could gather together before I left, I think we can cover everything you need. She wouldn't’ send you with me just for you to sleep out in the cold because it’s expensive.” Dorian looked at Krem, who was staring at his books, shoulders hunched. 

 

    “I would do it, you know. I didn’t go into this expecting a comfortable trip. I was expecting to do more than I’ve been doing, and for you to be mad at me and the world, for you to lash out. But it would be worth it, to be near you, so this journey is worth it.” Krem finally looked Dorian in the eye, a blush on his face. “Because you introduced me to a man like me, and you’ve never treated me as anything other than a real man.” Dorian scratched his head, ruffling his hair in the same way he always did. He wasn’t entirely prepared for discussions like these. 

 

    “Well, I guess I’m useful for that.” Dorian’s joke fell into awkward silence. “But I will tell you this. Anyone would would lash out or treat you poorly isn’t worth your time. There will be people who know you, and treat you like the man you are.” Both of them looked uncomfortable, not entirely certain whether he was telling the truth. But after looking at Krem’s face, he decided he would make it true. 

 

     It wouldn’t be the strangest thing he’d ever done, considering he was on this journey to look after the son of someone he held dear. He could find people who accepted Krem. Dorian frowned. He wasn’t sure if Caidy would, and he couldn’t check now. But she rolled with him liking men, and Krem wasn’t that far a stretch. And if she wasn’t accepting, he could teach her to be. Strange how when he thought about it, his life could fit Krem so easily. 

 

    “Alright. I’ll go bargain for the rooms then,” Krem said with a hint of doubt in his voice. 

 

    “Krem, whatever happens, as long as I am alive, my house will have a place for you, as exactly who you are. I might not be able to promise more than that, but I will promise you at least that.” Dorian was surprised when Krem turned back from heading to the inn. 

 

    “You keep saying things like that, a man might kiss you.” There was a smile on his face, but it was sad, with hints of what they were both missing. Dorian gave him a sad smile in return, and settled in to watch the bags. 

 

    It took less time than he expected for Krem to return, and Krem picked up both bags. Krem’s bag had two metal poles extending off of it, which he’d explained were for carrying a second pack, if needed. When Dorian opened his mouth to protest, Krem held his fingers to his lips. 

 

    “It would look odd for you to be carrying your own pack, let me do it for now. I know no one is looking for us, but I don’t want you to get hassled by any of the other noble types here.” Krem turned abruptly and headed towards the in Dorian following along behind. 

 

    It was a slightly challenge getting past the innkeeper who was baffled by the fact that they didn’t take a carriage. He firmly didn’t believe it when Dorian said they walked from the river because they were in a hurry. 

 

    The carriage ride took ten days instead of a three day boat ride, and what was a two day walk for people who were more used to walking than Dorian. Most magisters wouldn’t have been able to do it in less than four, but it was faster this way, so Dorian was willing to push himself hard for Felix. 

 

     Their rooms were adjoining, Krem’s less grandiose for guards. Apparently, it was common enough for magisters to want their guards nearby. The bed wasn’t the softest thing he’d ever slept on. It had been pushed down with the force of too many bodies over too many years, but it was softer than the ground by far. It would do for tonight. And it was soft enough that he was starting to fall asleep on it, on top of the blankets. 

 

     Which he shouldn’t do, he should talk to Krem about getting baths for the both of them. Also someone to launder their clothes. Both of them had a slight odor, which Dorian didn’t like. Being able to smell himself was an experience from this trip that he didn’t care for. 

 

    Dorian sighed and forced himself up, knocking on the door. After shoving a gold at Krem and asking him to arrange for everything to get clean, including himself. And to get change from the innkeeper, because apparently golds would draw attention. It didn’t matter in Tevinter, where no one would attack a mage. But they wouldn’t be in Tevinter forever, so he should develop good habits now.

 

    A knock on the door to the rest of the inn startled him out of his reverie. There was the innkeeper, carrying a large tub, and the maids with yolks and two buckets of hot water each. Dorian was surprised to note that they didn’t have slave collars, so either the innkeeper trusted his slaves, or he paid them. Strange to think that this was the place Magisters preferred to stay. Not that there was much in the way of options, considering the other inn was a no-nonsense berth, catering to large groups of soldiers, merchants, and other people who would bathe in the river. 

 

     After all of the water buckets the maids had were dumped in the tub, the innkeeper pulled him aside to make sure that he actually wanted to buy a bath for Krem. 

 

    “Yes, I did. I’m rather tired of smelling him.” That sounded to Dorian like typical magister drivel. He just wanted to be left alone for his bath, not get into an argument about proper behavior. Somehow though, it still raised the innkeeper’s eyebrows. 

 

    “Most of our customers send their guards down to the river to get clean, save ‘em the expense.” As the innkeeper talked, the mais left. It took Dorian a second to think of a response, because it wouldn’t be safe for Krem to be that nude and he didn’t want to make his friend bathe in cold water were two answers that would prolong the discussion. 

 

    “I find that if I treat my guards with kindness, they remain more loyal, and are less likely to ask for more pay.” Dorian’s tone was curt, and he moved to wave the innkeeper out of the room. The innkeeper nodded, realizing he overstepped. 

 

    “Leave your dirty clothes outside the door, and we’ll have the maids bring it back clean.” The innkeeper shut the door on the way out. 

 

     Dorian stripped, dumping his dirty clothes outside while hiding any necessary bits behind the door. Belatedly, he realized that he could’ve done it after his bath, wearing the clean, if wrinkled, clothes in his bag. Ah well. Dorian settled into the tub, almost moaning as the hot water soothed his aching muscles. As he used the soap he brought with him, the smell reminded him of home. 

 

    Between the hot water, the feeling of being clean, and the stimulation of soap on his skin, he started to get hard. It had been so long since he’d had a chance to wank. And the water would hide his leavings well enough, what with all the dirt and the soap floating around. Before he knew it, he was biting his lip, imagination trying to find something other than Krem to focus on. 

 

    Eventually he landed on Tobias, jumping around to some of the others he’d met at various partied. It worked until he came, and then he thought about Krem, who probably had his own tub of water. Of course he came then. Traitor dick. Krem deserved more than to be some side piece, and Dorian couldn’t stop thinking about the man. 

 

    A sigh escaped as Dorian stood up to dry himself off he hadn’t seen one of the maids set on the bed. Hopefully he would still be able to look Krem in the eye over dinner. Though after dinner, nothing could keep him away from his bed. He needed to be up early, so they could buy horses for the next leg of the journey. Hopefully riding would be easier than walking, because he couldn’t imagine putting himself through more. 

 

**. . .**

    Riding was slightly better than walking. Mostly. One of the points that made it less fun was the fact that Krem insisted on getting him a well trained, well broken in mount. Which was a polite way of saying she was old, and slow. KIrem insisted she would be fine, but Dorian felt like he spent most of his time urging her to keep up with Krem. 

 

    Frustrating to think they would ride down the imperial highway on these mounts only to sell them again when it was time to board yet another boat. It had taken Krem nearly an hour to talk the price down to something he found acceptable. The person selling the horses was used to people who bought them for just such a journey, and he was the only place that had horses. He was used to customers who would sell their horses at the other end of the journey and accomplished hagglers. 

 

    He wasn’t, however, used to someone who could be as stubborn as Krem. Krem, who seemed to be determined to make himself as useful as possible, and help Dorian save as much as possible. Dorian found out later that he’d tried to give the money for his warm bath back, along with whatever he’d spend on laundry. Quite infuriating, really. 

 

    Even so, he was glad Krem was with him. The soldier knew how to bargain, and how to travel. Dorian knew how to do neither. Alvina was right. Again. He hated when that happened. Especially since he realized that if Krem wasn’t there, his mount would’ve been showy, and expensive. He would’ve paid too much, and sold it for much less than he could have. His mount was old, sure, but he could handle her, and he probably couldn’t say the same about a showy mount. 

 

    The aches from the two and a half days of walking were starting to fade, two days into the riding trip. They were being replaced by aches from riding. There was a remarkable amount of motion involved, considering that he was sitting on a being doing the actual walking. It hurt to have his legs spread around his mount, hurt to make sure he kept his seat, stayed on. Eventually, he managed to coax his mount next to Krem’s. 

 

    “How much of this do we have, exactly?” With his tone, Dorian aimed for playful and curious. Judging by the slightly pained expression on Krem’s face, it didn’t entirely get there. 

 

    “We’ll have about a week more of this. It’s quite a ways to the border, even on a good road with mounts,” Krem replied. 

 

    “Ah,” Dorian said with some amount of despair. “It’s funny, looking at maps you don’t realize how big all of this is.” 

 

    “No. I guess the bright side is that you aren’t carrying a pack for this part of the journey.” Krem looked like he was enjoying this, his face seemed serene. 

 

     “I’m very grateful,” Dorian paused, unsure if what he had to say would fit into the relationship he and Krem were working out. Then he remembered Alvina saying thanks mattered. “Well, I’m grateful for you to doing so much of the work. I know I’m good at none of this, and I’m very glad you came with me. I think I already said that, but I’m reminded, because I think I would go mad trying to ride for over a week by myself. It’s also getting to Felix faster, and that means the world to me.” Krem blushed. 

 

    “It’s alright.” Krem’s gaze got unfocused again, even as his cheeks flushed. Probably better to leave it alone now, if Krem was that embarrassed. Dorian patted his mount’s neck. He might not be eager to see her go at the end of this. Even as much as she was being a pain. “So who is Felix to you, that you’re willing to do something that makes you so uncomfortable?” 

 

    “Ah. Well, it’s him and Alexius both. Alexius is… Was my mentor. Sort of like a father figure, who saw to me doing well in politics. Felix is his son, and he sent me a message. It cut off, and the only thing he managed to tell me was that he wanted my help, his father is going mad, and he wanted me to come to Redcliffe.” Dorian glanced at Krem out of the corner of his eye, saw Krem clenching and unclenching his hands on the reins. Was Krem… Jealous? “He’s my little brother, and when he asks I’ll be there.” Krem seemed to relax somewhat. 

 

    “I don’t have any siblings, but I imagine if I did, I’d feel the same way,” Krem said quietly. 

 

    “I can see that,” Dorian replied. “I can’t imagine you letting any of your family, adopted or otherwise, suffer. It’s one of the things I like about you. You were in the middle of fighting off four men trying to hurt you, and you were worried about your father.” Dorian smiled at Krem. 

 

    “Yeah, Crato said he would still pay me, since I’m accompanying you. Alvina promised me that she would get the money to my father. She told me that whether your father paid me or not, she’d come up with the money. She offered before I said anything.” Krem had a smile on his face now, and Dorian felt himself relax. He felt responsible for Krem coming with him, especially after what Krem said in front of the inn. Krem didn’t owe him anything, not that the young man seemed to believe it. 

 

    “Yes, Alvina is like that. She tends to only approach people with what she wants after she has everything set up. I very quickly stopped making excuses to not do my chores growing up,” Dorian said as he chuckled. Krem grinned back at him, and any remaining tension Dorian had left. 

 

   “I can only imagine,” Krem replied before they settled back into a companionable silence. The sun was shining and it warmed him pleasantly without being too hot. Sure, his muscles were aching, but his horse was nice. Until she decided that the grass looked delicious and he had to nudge her along again. 

 

    When they were moving, his anxiety went down. It wouldn’t be too long, and then it would be time for the last leg of the journey. He’d get there, in time, and help Felix. Then something occurred to him, and he urged his mount to catch up to Krem; mentioning his own upbringing made him curious. 

 

    “What was it like for you, growing up?” Dorian hoped that wasn’t too personal a question. 

 

    “It was… Mostly normal. Except for the part where I would steal or buy whatever boy’s clothes I could. My mother disapproved, but it always made my father laugh. Not unpleasant, really, except when my mom tried to push it. Eventually, it got to the point where she gave up, went with the lie I had been telling, that I was my own twin brother.” Krem paused, thinking. There were shadows on his face. 

 

     “It got to the point where she had a funeral for me, because people never saw my sister. Mom could only tell me so many lies about how sick I was before someone got suspicious. She only had so many ways to bribe or blackmail me before I decided that whatever happened, I wanted to be myself more than I wanted to please her.” Krem stared off into the distance, actively avoiding making eye contact with Dorian. Hopefully this didn’t hurt Krem too much to talk about. 

 

    “It was surreal, to go to that funeral, and pretend to be sad, when I wanted to cheer, and dance, and spit on the coffin. I was about sixteen by that time, so I was good, and pretended to grieve for my sister, but all I felt was relief that I would never have to be her again.” Krem took a deep breath, his voice a little shaky.  

 

    “And being a boy now, I didn’t have to worry about mourning dress as much as the girls do. So I got to live my life. My mother still doesn’t understand, but my father is just relieved I found a way of keeping from selling himself into slavery. And he’d always known, somehow.” Krem was fiddling with his reins. Not enough to do anything to the horse, just running them through his fingers.” 

 

     “Probably because I wanted to pretend to shave with him, and kept trying to dress up in his clothes, instead of my mother’s. Otherwise I was a fairly normal soporati boy.” Krem grinned up at him, clearly poking fun at Dorian growing up upper class, learning to manage his magic before anything else about him could be defined.

 

    “I wouldn’t know anything about that, but I am glad it wasn’t too hard on you,” Dorian said as he gave him a smile in return. 

**. . .**

 

    Dorian stood in the stables, dancing from foot to foot. He had one set of reins in each hand, and he managed to be both sad at the idea of saying goodbye to his house, and frustrated because Krem was ferociously haggling about the price they would get for the horses an hour later. Some part of him knew the hour would be worth it, if it meant he would have more gold for whatever came along. 

 

    All together, he had about twenty gold sewn into various hiding places, and another five in the purse around his neck. He still had no idea who Alvina had managed to sew that much gold into his clothes before he was ready to leave. Sometimes he found himself touching the coins, thinking of home and Alvina. It was a habit he was trying to break as they were readying to leave Tevinter, and he didn’t want trouble. 

 

    Krem was negotiating for trail food and extra water skins in addition to the horses, which was part of why this was taking so long. Eventually, Krem managed to get a price he found reasonable, and Dorian was more than happy to relinquish the reins. His arms were tired. The innkeeper grumbled as Krem finished loading both of their packs, clearly unhappy with the deal, but Krem had a smug grin on his face, so apparently it had gone well. 

 

    Much to Dorian’s frustration, Krem took equal care of bargaining for their passage. There were two boats heading to Redcliffe, and he wanted to talk to both of their captains before deciding. Surprisingly, the second captain knew Alvina, and she was more than happy to have them for free, because of course Alvina had done her a huge favor. The captain explained that she was waiting for them before departing on her usual route to Redcliffe, Alvina having sent word via raven. The more time went on, the less Dorian thought Alvina exaggerated about her contacts. 

 

   The captain led them to a roomy cabin, two bunks with actual mattresses firmly against one wall. Dorian inspected them, and found that they were fastened into the wall somehow. There were even drawers under the beds, big enough to hold their packs and everything in it. This would be a much better ride than the first one. 

 

**. . .**

 

    Despite the niceness, it took less time for him to get restless on this boat. There was an anxiety he couldn’t shake. Not fast enough, not fast enough was the only thought running through his head. 

 

    Even with the captain doing everything she could to make this journey faster, Dorian had taken to pacing the deck. The wind could sometimes clear his mind. He was on the rear of the deck, in the breeze as much as he could be when the captain approached him. 

 

   “We’ve got a pretty good wind going, but the sails could take more, and if it was a little more direct we wouldn’t have to take as much. You familiar with force magic? We’ve got the magical shields, so even if you aren’t too familiar you won’t do harm to the ship.” Then she muttered something he couldn’t quite hear, but sounded like  _ I’ll try anything if it will get you out from underfoot.  _

 

    “I’ve done a fair amount with force magic. I know how to throw out the power, at the very least, no promises that we’ll go as fast as someone with more practice.” Dorian gave the captain a small smile. He longed for something to do, something that would ease this itching, anxious feeling inside him that told him jumping off the boat and swimming would be faster. Even if he knew it wouldn’t actually, the urge was there. 

 

    “Alright. I’ll show you to the box.” She looked at him, executed a precise military turn with her arms locked behind her back. Clearly he’d made her mad. He followed her over to a warded circle, marked both by a circle in the wood and a magic bubble. There was a narrow channel that went to the sail, managing to stay out of the way of the sailors and ropes, but still leave a place for the force to go nowhere but into the sail. The wards would ask a small amount of his magic from him in order to continue working. All in all, it was quite elegant, probably only needing lyrium painted on it once a year or so. 

 

   The circle accepted his magic with his touch, and he climbed inside. It wasn’t big enough for him to stretch his arms out much at all, but it would do. He let his mind cross over into the fade, the place where he drew his power. He tuned out the demons voices, although there was one spirit of curiosity he indulged by answering a few questions. Then he sunk deeper, going into the trance state where he needed to stay for magic he wanted to work longer. 

 

    He took a deep breath, feeling slightly odd as he always did in his body. A demon whispered that it could take his anxiety away, and he ignored it more strongly than the others. Having a way to help was a far better cure, and he could pretend he was in a realm of magic instead of on a boat this way. 

 

    As he exhaled, he pushed. Not with his arms, but with his mind, and the power flowed out with his will. Just enough to fill the channel, no extra. He wanted to practice. Clean, and a solid stream. Some of the sailors cheered, and he could feel the ship speeding up. Power surged through him as he got excited. Then he forced himself to take another deep breath, and it evened out. Up just a slight amount, and hold… 

 

    That was his only thought until he realized he was running out of magical energy, and he didn’t want to use the small amount of lyrium he kept tucked into his boots. There was more in his backpack, but he didn’t know how easy it would be for him to get any in Redcliffe, and better safe than sorry. He was also exhausted, though he didn’t realize how much until he left the circle, and Krem caught him. 

 

     “I’ve never seen someone manage that for more than two hours. Had one of the cabin boys send for your companion. I figured it would work out like this.” The captain had a smile on her face. “And you saved us almost a day, no need to tack with you directing the wind.” Dorian nodded, leaning into Krem. Krem was warm, which felt nice. And steady, considering his own legs were wobbly. 

 

    Krem guided him with a great deal of care, negotiating the narrow steps to below deck sideways. He went first, so that if Dorian fell, Krem could catch him. Dorian was briefly distracted by how many muscles Krem seemed to have, that he could do this. Then he was more embarrassed to realize he wasn’t in control of his legs. Which made him hard again, because how strong, exactly was this man. Which was unfair, because if he couldn’t control his legs, his cock shouldn’t be capable of getting hard. 

 

    Getting into his berth was slightly tricky, Krem telling him to go limp once he managed to get Dorian close enough to tuck him into the lower bunk. Dorian almost fell asleep, the bed so comfortable after standing and channeling power for hours, but then he could smell food. Krem handed it to him, and Dorian forgot about any manners he had. He ate quickly, drinking from the canteen Krem handed him next. He drank most of it, then fell asleep, it still in his hand. For the first time in this entire adventure, he slept soundly. 

 

     The next day, he woke up unsure of what time it was. There were no windows in their room, but he could see Krem reading a book. The cover gave him a jolt. It was shame book, and Krem smiled when he saw where Dorian’s eyes landed. 

 

    “Don’t worry, I brought my own. I was amazed that you liked yours enough to bring it, considering there must be stories with characters more similar to you.” Krem was looking at him with the same expression on his face as when he’d asked Dorian to stop flirting unless he meant it. 

 

      Maybe it was how tired he was. Maybe it was the fact that he’d just woken up. But he turned to Krem, and gave him a look. The kind of look he’d been trying not to give Krem, even after they kissed. It had heat, and promise, and made Krem blush. Dorian could watch the heat spread across Krem’s face. He felt bad, because he wasn’t going to do anything about the look, so he figured he should explain.  

 

    “Growing up, I’d had occasional sexual encounters with other men. There wasn’t anything to them, because they had to be hidden. Most of the books I’d read between two men were like that as well. Short, with sex, romances full of drama that could be avoided if they talked.” Dorian didn’t notice when the look on his face went from neutrally explaining back to the look he’d given Krem. “That was about romance, and wonder, and about loving your partner, whoever they are, however they seem to change. It meant a lot.” Krem looked stunned. Still slightly flushed from the look, but stunned. 

 

     “I guess I never thought of it that way. I’m not used to a story like mine being something people relate to.” Krem was quiet as he spoke, almost as if he was ashamed. 

 

    “That’s probably because there aren’t enough of those stories out there. It’s one of the reasons why Mory runs his shop.” Dorian hoped he didn’t sound patronizing as he explained. “Stories are all about relating to someone new, and even if we don’t have the same experience, it’s possible to relate to a character who is different.” Krem startled slightly, and Dorian heard the clink of a plate on the deck. 

 

     “The captain asked me to give you breakfast when you woke up. She said she’s thankful to you for working the magic that will get us to Redcliffe so much sooner.” Krem held out bread covered in honey. The plate had been hidden in his shadow. Dorian thought it was cute that he didn’t let go of it, even while he was reading. “She also said that we could get to Redcliffe with enough time to find an inn tonight if you could help for an hour.” 

 

    “Well, in that case.” Dorian ate as much as he could, wondering if Krem wanted to change the subject. Part of him didn’t care too much, a rush going through him with the sugar. While he ate, Krem put some water on a rag so he could wash his face. Dorian also shook out his clothes, and then he was as ready as he could be. 

 

     Up to the deck with him. The captain seemed startled to see him, as soon as she did, she barked orders at her men to get the ship ready for his power. He’d missed this part yesterday, having been absorbed by examining the circle. A signal from the captain, and he could start. 

 

     It was certainly harder than it was yesterday, but the magic was still there. A push, a thought, and power flew into the sail. The ship surged, and he gradually increased power until it filled the channel. It hurt slightly, after all he’d done yesterday, but as he settled into it, the ache stopped. Today he was a little more aware of his surroundings, not going into his power as deeply, severing his connection to the fade as soon as the captain knocked on his wards. 

 

     “We’re here,” she told him. And he could see it. Redcliffe, over the horizon, harbor mouth right below him. He would still need to dock, but he was here, where he could do good. There weren’t any other Tevinter ships in the harbor, so he’d made it before Alexius. However tired he was, it was worth it, was worth being here. 

 

On to help his brother. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I refused, absolutely REFUSED, to have Redcliffe be more than a chapter. So here is a chapter that is three times as long as they usually are. I hope you all enjoy it!

    The first thing that struck Dorian was how crowded Redcliffe was. There were people having loud conversations anywhere he walked. The second, which probably said something about his priorities, was the giant green hole in the sky. Felix had said Alexius was going to do something mad. Dorian had thought going to Redcliffe, town of the dog lords, bad enough but it paled in comparison to the hole in the sky. 

 

    “You know Krem, I was originally going to get us two rooms at the inn here, but considering the hole in the sky, I think it would be wise for me to ward our room.” Dorian couldn’t take his eyes off of the green monstrosity, so he couldn’t see Krem, but he could feel Krem at his shoulder, keeping an eye out. 

 

     “Judging by how crowded the town is, I don’t think we’ll be able to afford it either,” Krem replied. He waited a few moments to get Dorian’s attention before starting to guide his wayward mage. “We’ll want to see about getting a room for the night before everyone else does.” 

 

    “What? Oh, of course.” Dorian followed Krem, wondering how the soldier knew where the inn was in a strange town. Then he noticed the sign on the building on the hill and felt foolish. 

 

    The switchbacks on the hill took a while to navigate, especially with all of the crowds. Despite them, there was a happiness to Redcliffe. Everyone looked well fed, and most of the voices were cheerful ones. Any worried voices were talking about the war between mages and Templars. That couldn’t be right, because of what he knew about the Chantry outside of Tevinter. The templars kept a stranglehold over the mages, it was one of the reasons the Tevinter Chantry was different. He could find out more when he got settled, if Krem didn’t take too long haggling for their room. 

 

    The door of the inn opened to a wall of noise. Dorian could faintly hear a minstrel playing a song of some kind, but mostly it was people shouting for more food or ale. The innkeeper was behind a small bar, looking frazzled. Dorian pointed him out to Krem, and they headed over. He took one look at them and growled. 

 

    “Two gold a night, one room.” Krem opened his mouth to haggle, and the innkeeper cut him off. “You don’t want to pay it, you can sleep outside. His royal majesty decided that in addition to all of the townspeople needing to stay safe inside the walls, all of the mages could come here too. I don’t know why, seeing as all of these folks kicked off the mage and templar war, but here they are. So if you don't pay, someone else will.” The innkeeper sighed, walking out from around the bar to talk to a soldier getting too friendly with his waitress. It gave Dorian a moment to talk to Krem. 

 

    “I think we’re going to have to pay it, the wards I have in mind won’t work on tent canvas.” Dorian wouldn’t mind sleeping on the ground if he wasn’t worried for their safety. Two gold a night was more than a bit steep. 

 

    “Alright. If you think it’s necessary. I don’t know how long we’ll be here waiting for Alexius and Felix.” The mulish expression on Krem’s face didn’t change. “But if we start running low on gold, I’ll get some work in town. There’s plenty to do with all of these extra people.” Krem glared at him defiantly, daring Dorian to argue. Dorian wanted to, but Krem had a point. There was more to do for a soldier than a mage. Even if there was work for a mage, the town was full of them. He hadn’t noticed until now, but almost everyone eating there was wearing robes. 

 

    “Okay, but only because you offered, and because Alexius won’t recognize you. If you change your mind and don’t want to find work, I’ll figure something out.” Dorian was startled by the return of the innkeeper, he’d almost forgotten what was going on. 

 

     “Well?” he asked, only to rush off and deal with something else. Krem grinned at Dorian. 

 

    “I might be able to lower the price if I help him keep the peace here.” Krem dropped his pack at Dorian’s feet, and moved to a different soldier, accosting the other waitress. Dorian couldn’t help but smile as Krem managed to get the man to apologize and sit down. He followed Krem’s progress, working in the opposite direction of the innkeeper. An air of peace settled over the room as Krem and the innkeeper met in the middle. 

 

     It was still too loud for Dorian to hear what they were saying. The mages clearly hadn’t had much experience with freedom, and were using the little time they had to carouse. It made him remember what it had been like for him when he escaped Vyrantium. Krem came back, a smile on his face. 

 

     “The innkeeper, his name is Darren. He agreed to pay me a gold a day, and take half a gold off the room price. It’s not much, but I figure it will keep a roof over our heads long enough for Alexius to get here.” Krem looked happy and proud of himself. It was a good look, and Dorian hoped he could see it more. 

 

     “That’s wonderful Krem, and I appreciate you taking care of this. I’ll make sure I take just as much care in protecting us from magical dangers.” Dorian felt himself relax. They could handle half a silver a day for a little over a month, and Alexius shouldn’t take nearly that long to get here. 

 

     “Part of the problem is that Darren didn’t know how to handle the soldiers. He’s grateful to them for keeping the worst of the mess outside the gates, but they’re running him ragged. Crato taught me well.” Krem picked up his back, grabbing Dorian’s hand to lead them up to their room. It sent a pleasant feeling down his arm. Even better was when no one noticed or commented. How strange, how wonderful this place. 

 

     “Darren warned me it was small.” Krem unlocked the door of their rom and walked in. “He didn’t mention that the bed was clearly made for children.” Dorian laughed. 

 

    “That’s alright, I can sleep on the floor. You’ll be working all day and I want you to have a comfortable place to rest.” Dorian didn’t know what he expected, but the defiant look it produced seemed obvious in retrospect.

 

    “The only way I’ll be sleeping in that bed is if you are also in it.” Krem crossed his arms over his chest and stared Dorian down. No wonder his mother had given up trying to make him into a daughter.

 

     “My bedroll is perfectly soft, and I don’t know that both of us could fit on the bed. I might roll over in the middle of the night and push you off.” Dorian sent his best stubborn stare back. Krem raised an eyebrow, and Dorian caved. 

 

    “Alright. But if neither of us sleeps from lack of space, you’ll know who to blame.” Krem grinned at him, and headed towards the door. 

 

    “I’m going to head downstairs and get to work. I have the key, so make sure you lock the door. Get me if you need to go anywhere.” Krem waved and shut the door. 

 

     Dorian took a look around the room. It was tiny, considering it was somehow worth two gold a night. The bed took up about half of the room and it wasn’t much wider than his shoulders. There was a table with an enormous wheel of cheese, a smaller plate of fruit, and smoked meat. A desk was squeezed into the corner between the table and the bed, and it held tankards of water. All of the furniture was wooden, all of it plain and uncushioned. That was baffling; it was colder here than in Tevinter, and those chairs would make it colder still. 

 

    He yawned, and realized how tired he was. The food was tempting, but the bed sang a siren song. Why couldn’t there have been room in his pack for a robe or something comfortable to sleep in? At this point, he would take sleeping in his underwear, but the bed was small and he didn’t want to make things more awkward. In the end, he unbuckled as much of his outfit as he could. It left him in half of a shirt and leggings. He still missed his pajamas, but this was as comfortable as he could get. 

    Pushing the bed against the wall took slightly longer. It wouldn’t give them much more room, but Dorian could sleep on the edge without fear of falling off. From a distance, the noise from the eating room sounded like the circle tower. It soothed him, all of the voices muffled and the noise getting quieter as people left. 

 

     Krem opening the door didn’t wake him, but the sounds of a bed roll unrolling on the floor did. Dorian rolled off the bed and laid on it before Krem could protest. 

 

    “You unrolled it for me, how kind,” Dorian murmured before he fell asleep again. 

 

**. . .**

 

When Dorian woke up, Krem was sleeping in the bed. That made him grin. Krem might be more stubborn than he was, but he could plot with the best of them. It was early, the sounds of the inn not quite starting. There was no window, but there was a small amount of light visible under the door from the window at the end of the hall. It was enough to see that someone was in the bed, and not much else. 

 

    A walk around town sounded nice after being cooped up on the ship. He might wake up Krem if he got up, and the soft snores seemed to indicate that he needed sleep. Dorian’s stomach growled loudly, and he figured that getting up to eat some food would be a good compromise. When he stood up, Krem rolled out of bed, on his feet before Dorian could tell him to go back to bed. 

 

     “It’s alright, I was just going to get some breakfast. After that, I thought I might walk around town, see if I can learn something about what Alexius has planned.” Dorian warmed as he saw Krem rub his eyes sleepily. Usually Krem woke him up, not the other way around. 

 

     “I’ll come with you, give me a minute to eat something.” Krem stretched and shook himself, managing to look more awake in a minute than Dorian could all morning. 

 

    “It’s really alright, you can go back to sleep.” Dorian smiled at Krem. “I can take care of myself and you look like you need it.” Krem looked him over, debating.

 

     “I don’t want people to see a rich mark and go after you. I also know Tevinter mages aren’t popular.” Krem lit the lamp on the wall of the room, and noticed the food for the first time. He padded over and ate while Dorian stared at his shoulders.

 

     They were bare, the corset shaping his chest ending just below his armpits. For pants, he was wearing the padding that went under his leather armor, which were tailored to his ass. Not that Dorian noticed. He was paying too much attention to his food. Any hardness that might be there was clearly because he got food before finding a chamber pot. 

 

     “I think most of these locals know better than to try and rob a mage. Besides, there’s guards every ten feet.” Dorian realized he was starting to sound like a child asking permission to do something. He stuffed the last of his cheese in his mouth and raced to buckle on some more layers to his outfit. “Besides, you have the key,” Dorian said over his shoulder. He closed the door, boots in his hand. It was difficult to put them on while he walked down the stairs, but somehow he managed. 

 

    It was still cool, because winter was on its way, but the sun felt good. It didn’t take too long for him to walk around the whole town, at least the walled in part. There wasn’t much gossip that he hadn’t already heard, just the same stuff about the mage/templar war. Someone said something about an inquisition, but it was windy, and he couldn’t hear it clearly. 

    Back in the room, he grabbed some of his alchemy supplies from his bag. It wasn’t much, just a few closely packed vials, all of the lyrium he’d been saving, and some small vials of elfroot. All of it had been wrapped in the bandages he used to aid healing. The last thing was the most expensive, and he hoped it survived the trip. 

 

    It was the present Felix gave him for the last birthday he’d celebrated with Alexius. Carefully, he unfolded the metal spines into a familiar shape. A small candle made of high quality, long burning wax slid into place, and it became a flame source and vial holder at the same time. It was his most prized possession aside from his books. It was a thoughtful gift, and it made him feel like he had a real family every time he used it. 

 

    A small metal straw slid out from under the candle holder, and he used it to pick up two grains of lyrium sand. It went into one of the larger empty vials, along with enough water to fill it halfway. He placed it carefully on the stand, and lit the candle. He stirred the mixture with the straw until it turned a familiar blue. This was the paint he would to put wards on the walls. It needed to be a little thinner, so he added water until it lightened the right amount. 

 

    A brush was tucked in with the bandages, and Dorian used it to paint runes of protection. The brush had been specially treated for magical workings, it and the lyrium combining to turn away magic. The bigger the rune, the more protection it would give. Because they didn’t know what to expect from Alexius, the runes had to be large. Dorian sealed them with his magic when he finished painting, making a barrier that wouldn’t allow the lyrium to poison anyone. 

 

     The runes would last for two to three days, and he would renew them when they dried. Because he couldn’t reach the ceiling, he added a dot in each of the corners, linking it with a little more magic to the runes on the walls. There was a faint shimmer visible to mages, but anyone without magic wouldn’t be able to see it. Similarly, people could still come and go, but magic would need to ask politely to get in. 

 

     It had the added bonus of hiding his magic from Alexius. No sense getting Felix in trouble for asking for help. Chores done, he pulled out ink and a quill to start writing about what he’d heard. If they were staying in the area, they needed to learn as much as they could. 

 

    From there, his days started to take a similar pattern. He would wake up, sneak out of the room with his breakfast, and eat it while he walked around town. People started to recognize him, and would chat with him about things they knew about the world outside. He would usually buy a small amount of food, say hello to many of the vendors setting up, and head back to the inn. He’d write down rumors, and depending on the day, renew the ward painting or the magic. 

 

      Krem would say good morning on his way to work, and Dorian would wish him well. The rest of his day was always boring. He’d felt guilty doing it, but he bought himself another book, so he could alternate between that and “Of Men and Mercy.” Sometimes someone would want to hire him for scribe or mage work, but there was little enough of that it didn’t happen often. 

 

    Usually, he’d get bored and wander out again. He’d check with the harbormaster to see what ships were expected, he’d talk to people about Redcliffe. It was still running smoothly with the gates shut. Supplies went in and out, the poor were provided for, and somehow no one seemed hungry, cold, or too poor to clothe themselves. Dorian took notes to bring back to House Pavus. 

 

    It still baffled him that a place that looked wild and covered in weeds worked as well as it did. Even with the extra mouths of the mages. Maybe Tevinter could be something like this, a place that remembered history and people, all at once. 

 

    Days faded into a week, which turned into two, and then three. Boredom gave way to worry, about whether he was doing the right thing, about how much lyrium they had left. Guilt that Krem worked while he didn’t do much of anything, and a frantic desire to find work to replenish their dwindling supply of gold. There wasn’t anything he could do about any of it, though. All he could do was wait, and hope that everything would turn out alright in the end. 

 

**. . .**

 

    Their lyrium supply had gotten low enough that Dorian developed a ritual. He would check the runes on the wall with his eyes and his magic. It took him around the room, including climbing on the bed to get to the last one. He’d worry over the drying progress, then check the lyrium they had left, which wasn’t very much. Dorian figured they had a quarter of their original supply remaining. 

 

     As he paced the room, he worried. About Alexius, Felix, what he was doing here, and whether he’d made a good decision. A little about the life he’d left behind, whether his father mourned him or not. Was Alvina doing alright, did Crato have to hire a new lieutenant? 

 

    When he started thinking about Krem, his pacing became more meditative, and he stopped checking the runes. It was odd, to be sharing such close quarters with another man. He’d grown up believing that it would be political suicide, something his parents would never allow. On some level, it was everything he dreamed. 

 

    Waking up, the first thing he saw was Krem, still sleeping next to him. Krem would be at work after his walk, but they ate dinner together every night. The closeness falling asleep sometimes made it difficult, but more often, he felt safe enough to sleep right away. 

 

    Funny how he’d grown up surrounded by people who were supposed to have everything in common with him, and this was the first time he hadn’t felt lonely. His days weren’t spent counting down days until he could be around people, and then counting down the minutes until he could be back in his tower, reading. It only took a few hours for someone he wanted around to return. 

 

    That was an odd feeling, really, wanting to be around someone. Not because he was starting to talk to himself, not because he wanted to see something other than bookshelves. Just because he enjoyed being around Krem. No doubt because he didn’t have to pretend around Krem. Krem saw him for exactly who he was, which was a feat, considering he didn’t know himself most of the time.

 

    There weren’t expectations or any sort of pretense, which was something he didn’t know how to handle. His life had prepared him for loaded conversations, subtle hints, threats, and maneuvering to get what he wanted. Honesty, truth, and being devoted to identity were new concepts. Concepts that challenged everything he’d been brought up to believe. 

 

    Krem had chosen truth to himself over his mother’s approval, and that made him wonder. She had eventually come around. Could his parents adapt to the idea of him loving men? Could politics? And then he thought about Caidy and his promise. Guilt washed over him. She was so gentle, and deserved better than to get forced into having a husband who would expect sex from her. Part of him had also fallen in love with the idea of marrying and having a household. It wouldn’t take much to get enough political clout to change the lives of fio and fia people all over Tevinter. Dorian sighed. 

 

    This trip was giving him so much to think about, most of which was tempting. He felt ill-equipped to handle any of the choices he was thinking about, but the pacing quieted his anxiety down enough that he could read. His old book, most likely. He wanted something comforting, as well as something that might soothe his desires.

 

    He hadn’t been able to wank since he and Krem had been in the hotel at the crossroad, and he was feeling it. There had been no chance for a private bath, because the innkeeper and his staff were too busy. There was a bathhouse in town, but he didn’t want to wank with an audience. Losing himself in Orlais would have to do for now. 

 

    It absorbed him so thoroughly that he didn’t hear the light tread on the stairs that meant Krem was coming up for dinner. By the time Dorian heard the knob turning, he only had time to drop the book over his crotch and hope it would do the job. 

 

    Krem walked in and froze, loaf of bread in one hand and some cheese in the other. He stared, transfixed, at Dorian. When Dorian looked down, he realized why. His cock was pushing his book up to the point of being obvious. Well then. 

 

    “I could help you with that, if you wanted.” Krem’s voice sounded deep and rough, which didn’t help Dorian’s problem. Dorian gave Krem a sad smile, feeling the blush on his face and seeing it on Krem’s. Krem’s face turned more stoic the longer Dorian didn’t say anything. Why were principles so painful? 

 

    “I would love nothing more than to do that, but you deserve more than I can give you.” Dorian was used to his own hurt. It was impossible to avoid, loving men as an heir expected to produce more heirs. The hurt on Krem’s face stung in a new way. It was worse when Krem started staring at the floor. Dorian willed Krem to look up at him, to see the hurt it was causing him to deny what they were both wanting. Krem’s eyes stayed locked on the floor, shoulders hunched over as far as they would go. 

 

    “Whatever you can give is fine with me. You know who I am already, and that’s not a conversation I know how to have. I couldn't imagine someone actually seeing me as a man while being intimate with me until I met you. It wouldn’t bother me to not get a life with you because you’ve already given me more than I thought possible.” Krem looked up at him at last, and Dorian could see the hope and trust stamped on his face. Why was Krem so eager to have half a relationship?

 

    “Krem… I would want you to be more than someone I have sex with. I don’t want you to miss out on a life with someone you can sleep with every night and kiss good morning. I can only imagine how much it would hurt both of us, if that couldn’t happen.” Dorian was trying to be kind, but he was frustrated. He’d lived that half-life long enough to know that he didn’t want it for the man he loved. 

 

    “I know I just…” Krem was staring at the wall, which was better than the floor, but worse than Krem actually looking at him. Dorian could at least see his face. “I haven’t had anyone I would trust to touch me and still see me as male.” 

 

    “Ah.” There wasn’t really much more Dorian could add to that. He hadn’t known any fio men except Mory. They never had conversations about his sex life. How was he supposed to respond to such a personal admission? “I am pleased that you trust me that much. I can’t imagine what that’s like. My sexual encounters have been short, but my partners have always been respectful.” Krem acted as if Dorian hadn’t said anything. 

 

    “It also wasn’t exactly safe. I’ve been in the army for most of my life. It made any sort of touching seem less appealing, and I didn’t have much of an interest to begin with.” Krem paused, still staring at the wall. His voice was quiet enough that Dorian leaned forward to hear him better. “My body hasn’t felt like mine enough. Some part of me felt like an impostor for wanting sex. How can I be a man who has sex without a cock?” Dorian was glad his own had gone down enough for him to hug Krem. Even if he was tactfully ignoring the tear rolling down Krem’s cheek. 

 

    “I don’t know very much about manhood, but I do know that it isn’t determined by the kinds of sex you like to have. No matter what ignorant people try to tell you.” Dorian gave Krem a smile and laid back down on the bed. “How was work today?” 

 

    “I almost forgot. The innkeeper got word today. A Tevinter ship is due in port. They sent a crow when they were delayed, they needed to wait to pick up some important passengers. Fiona was talking about it with some of the other mages. She’s worried the passenger is a magister, doesn't want there to be more trouble than there already is.” 

 

    “That sounds like Alexius and Felix. I’m so glad this will be over soon. I want my books back, and I’ve been so very bored with you working my friend. Can we play cards?” Dorian breathed a sigh of relief as Krem smiled at him. He’d had a friend for so little time, he didn’t want to lose Krem. 

 

    Which his traitor cock didn’t seem to understand, because it was hard again as Krem took off his armor. It was especially frustrating because he wasn’t watching. He wouldn’t be that disrespectful. Hopefully, he’d settled things with Krem enough that he wouldn’t bring it up again, no matter what his cock did. Dorian was starting to envy Krem for lacking one. It would be convenient to not display his arousal every time there was a stiff breeze. 

 

**. . .**

 

Sleeping that night was an adventure. Usually, his cock kept him up, if he was up at all. This time, he tumbled through odd dream after odd dream. Multiple copies of Alexius chased him, navigating around green tears that seemed to echo the one in the sky. Felix screamed for help, and no matter how fast he ran, he couldn’t get to Felix in time. He shot backwards and forwards through the same interactions, conversations repeating. He’d had odd dreams full of demons before, but even for the fade, it was strange.

 

    It was a little before dawn when he gave up on sleep. He was drenched in sweat, his ears ringing faintly with echoes from the fade. Energy ran through him, and an urgency he couldn’t explain. There was a pressure pushed on his skull, telling him that he needed to get out, figure out what was wrong. Even the time it took him to get dressed felt like too long, especially when he noticed the lyrium runes on the wall. They were completely dry, no magic or paint left. He’d put them on just yesterday. What had happened? 

 

    He pulled his hood up, runes stitched with lyrium on the inside to disguise his face. The stitches were something Alvina would scold him for, but it was the best he could do while he was waiting for something to happen. It wouldn’t do to use the hood too frequently, because he would need to renew the lyrium. He was glad for it when he came downstairs to a large number of mages. 

 

    What were Tevinter mages doing here? Were those… It couldn’t be. The sect had died out. A few people had tried to resurrect the movement, but from what he knew they hadn’t had much luck. Everyone he knew warned him against joining with the Venatori, but there were enough members to fill many of the tables. Fiona was there, looking more nervous than he’d ever seen her. 

 

    What had happened while he was sleeping? Dorian snuck out, glad that he didn’t grab his staff before he left the room. So much was different. The arl was usually somewhere, leading his men or unloading shipments. Why did so many people look thinner and hungrier now? No one could have lost that much weight in one night. 

 

    There were fewer guards, and they looked worn out. A creeping dread came over him. Whatever happened, it seemed tied to the presence of the Tevinter mages. What had Alexius done? He needed to get back to Krem before he ran out of lyrium for his hood. Whatever was going on, Alexius couldn’t know he was here. 

 

    By the time he got back to the room, Krem was awake. Even though he was groggy, he listened as Dorian described the changes in the town. Krem had goosebumps when he finished. Clearly Dorian wasn’t the only one who felt like something was off. 

 

    “Can you do me a favor? Alexius and Felix will come to the inn, more than likely. Can you pass Felix a note?” Alexius would never go to the Chantry. He gave up on faith when Felix was attacked. “I need to know what’s going on to do something about it.” Krem nodded, standing up to walk over to the table where they kept the food. Dorian knew things were dire when he didn’t react to a mostly undressed Krem. 

 

    “I can definitely do that. What does he look like?” Krem was chewing between words, trying to eat as much as he could. Often, it was too busy for him to get enough of a break to eat. 

 

    “Well… He looks ill. Look for a mage with a limp and dark circles under his eyes.” Dorian ate a little more too. It would keep him from pacing, at least until Krem went to work and he went to the Chantry. 

 

    “Alright. Is there a time?” Krem had finished eating, and started getting dressed. 

 

    “No, though sooner is better. Here.” Dorian scratched some words onto a scrap of paper, capping the ink when he was done. All of his research about what was going on in the town seemed useless now. “Give him him this. I’ll go wait at the Chantry. It might be awhile before he can meet me, Alexius is very protective.” 

 

    “Alright. I’ll keep my ear to the ground. You sure he won’t turn it into a trap?” Krem was slipping his feet into his boots, scrap of paper tucked into his pocket. 

 

    “Yes. He was begging me to come, and I think he cares for me enough that he would warn me.” Dorian rested his hands on Krem’s shoulders. “You be careful. The venatori are Tevinter supremacists. They might see you as a threat.” Dorian’s heart ached at the idea of sending Krem into danger, but something about this was wrong enough to make it worth the risk. 

 

    “I’ll look after myself. You do the same.” Krem gave him a smile, and Dorian narrowly resisted kissing him goodbye. 

 

    He grabbed his new book. It was trash, but it didn’t do anything to his cock, so it edged out “Of Men and Mercy.” He pulled his hood up, and left for the Chantry. His eyes planted on his feet, he headed out the door of the inn. Part of him didn’t want to know who was here, and part of him wanted a contingency in case the lyrium in his hood ran out. It made him feel like a coward. If he wanted to stop whatever this was, he should know the people who caused the problem. At the same time, he didn’t want to lose the little faith he had left in Tevinter, he wanted to believe that there were people who wanted reform, and change. 

 

    At least the path to the Chantry was clear, though he looked at the sun and worried about Felix. He hadn’t been able to handle exposure to daylight since the attack. It made his symptoms worse. Felix’s magic became more erratic, and he said that the whispers became more pronounced. The progression was hard to watch, and Dorian suspected he would be seeing more of it before this was through. 

 

    The chantry’s door creaked open. Usually he could expect to be greeted by several eager sisters, with expensive candles scenting the air. Instead, there was dust caked everywhere, and cobwebs in the corners. That hadn’t been there when he went a few days ago. He frowned, a sense of dread looming in the corners of his mind. Nothing to do but wait for Felix. He looked for a clean wall to lean on and sighed. Instead, he opted to stand, squinting at his book in the dim light that made it through the dusty window. 

 

    The book managed to keep him from pacing and kicking up the dust, but it didn’t do much more than that. He looked up every few minutes, not sure if he wanted to see Felix on his way, or if he wanted to hasten the sunset to Felix could get here safely. He kept getting distracted by thinking about everything that was going on. It worried him, because he knew Alexius would do anything to save Felix. Even if it ruined the world. Alexius had told him that as he threw Dorian out of the house for the last time, and for the first time Dorian believed that he meant it. 

 

    At last, he heard shuffling footsteps approach the door. Felix opened it, and Dorian narrowly resisted gasping when he saw. Since when had his friend looked this ill?

 

    “Dorian. I’m so glad you’re here. Father has gone mad.” Felix paused, gasping for breath. Why was there no where to sit in this maker forsaken place? “More mad than usual. I don’t know how but suddenly his time magic worked. There’s a terrible cost. It tears holes. Time speeds up and slows down around them, and they spread. As they spread, they spew demons. There’s one outside the front gate right now.” Dorian stood there blinking, trying to make sense of the words coming out of Felix’s mouth. 

 

    “But… It wasn’t working when I was assisting him. How in Thedas could he… And holes? He knows it makes holes? What could possess him to use such a thing if he knows of the consequences.” Dorian tried to keep his voice down and his tone even, but Maker this was worse than he could have imagined. 

 

    “He keep talking about someone with a green mark on her hand. She’s supposed to be here soon. The mages were petitioning her for aid before father turned back time to get here before she did.” Felix wobbled slightly, and Dorian moved forward to catch him. 

 

    “Easy, Felix. You know this gets worse when you push yourself.” Dorian was surprised when Felix smiled. 

 

    “Hard not to push myself when I see what my father is doing. But I’ll do my best, Dorian. You’re going to need all of the help you can get.” Felix was still breathing hard, and Dorian knew there was something Felix wasn’t telling him. Felix was right though. Stopping Alexius was more important than Felix’s health, as much as it killed him to admit it. 

 

    “Alright. Krem and I are staying at the inn. Krem is the one who handed you the note.” Dorian realized he was blushing. Felix had to know how many rooms were at the inn, because Alexius would have insisted on Felix getting one. 

 

    “You two sharing a room then?” Felix was smirking. 

 

    “Ah. Not like that. He’s from the house guard. Alvina sent him with me to make sure I got here safely.” Dorian was still blushing. It wasn’t helping his point. “I’m promised to someone back home, and I don’t want him to be…” He let his sentence trail off, knowing Felix would get it. 

 

    “Alright. When the woman with the green mark gets into town, I’ll send you a note. We’ll meet her here, and see what we can do about keeping her safe.” Felix grasped Dorian’s arm in farewell, not coordinated enough for a proper handshake. He shuffled towards the inn, squinting at the sun and stumbling slightly. Dorian shivered, a strong feeling of foreboding hanging over him. Why did this feel so final? 

 

**. . .**

 

    Another two days dragged by. They were out of lyrium, but Dorian figured Alexius had done the worst already. The innkeeper hadn’t remembered Krem, but when he found out Krem was used to dealing with mages, they got an even better deal than when they started. He gave them room and food for free, along with oil for the lamp. Apparently the Tevinter mages made him nervous. Not that he was alone in that, if the reaction of the townspeople was anything to go by. 

 

    Their room felt cramped. In an effort to not use all of the lyrium in his hood, he avoided going for walks. It was making him stir crazy, especially since he was too antsy to read. The only good news was that his cock was behaving because he was too stressed to get hard. He’d taken up a more frantic pacing instead, polishing parts of the floor smooth. 

 

    Krem updated him about what was going on, including the fact that Felix was getting worse. He was awake more than he used to be, the circles under his eyes getting progressively darker. Sometimes he would visibly flinch at the whispers he was hearing. Alexius didn’t seem concerned, and that made Dorian worry more. It made him more sure that a cure for Felix was involved, and that Alexius was doing something truly foolhardy. 

 

    It was noon on the third day when Krem finally came up with news. It was time to meet the woman with the  green mark on her hand, and hopefully stop Alexius before the rifts got worse. Dorian was glad to see the runes on his hood were mostly full, and he pulled it over his head. His staff was slightly obvious, because he was an unknown mage in a closed off town, but he figured he would need it. His heart thundered in his ears, hoping no one tried to talk to him. The door closed behind him, and he narrowly resisted the urge to run all the way to the Chantry. 

 

    Only to hit a hiccup as soon as he opened the door. A tear opened in front of his eyes. Just as Felix told him, demons flew out, faster than he could even blink. He sighed, firing magic and spinning his staff to keep them back. None of them were rage demons, so his frost magic was less effective than he hoped. The doors creaked open, and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

 

    “Help me with this, would you?” Dorian yelled over his shoulder. The words were barely out of his mouth when an arrow flew past him, embedding itself in a demon. A warrior ran by, slamming her shield into the demon and knocking it backwards. She bumped his shoulder, but he wouldn’t complain if it meant he wasn’t getting attacked. 

 

    There was a bald mage with pointed ears who threw spells, and when the rift shifted, he cast a dispel. Strange Dorian couldn’t say for certain, but it looked like some of the demons were prevented from entering the Chantry. How they discovered that dispels could do that had to be an interesting story. Dorian was also surprised to note that there was another mage behind the elven one. If he wasn’t mistaken, that was the court enchanter to Orlais. What was Vivienne doing traveling with this woman? 

 

    He was breathing hard by the time all of the demons were dead. Even so, he couldn’t help but watch as the dwarven woman stuck her hand into a rift and it closed. The magic behind that must be fascinating. 

 

    “You have no idea how that works, do you? You just wiggle your fingers and the rift is closed.” 

 

     “No,” said the dwarf woman. Her presence was imposing enough that she seemed taller than she was. She wasn’t what he expected, for that and other reasons. Her hair was chopped as short as a man, her skin a dark brown. She radiated something, but he wasn’t sure what. Not fear or power. Command perhaps? She stared as he inspected her, obviously waiting for him to say something. 

 

    “Ah, right. I’m Dorian, most recently from Minrathous. Alexius was my patron, I came here to check up on him.” She stared him down, obviously debating giving him her real name. Eventually she conceded, although she didn’t look happy about it. 

 

    “I’m Kelasi, from the Inquisition. I was trying to recruit the mages to assist in closing the Breach.” Her arms were crossed over her chest, her bow strapped to her back. It took him a moment to figure out what she was referring to, and then it dawned on him; the green hole in the sky. “I thought I was meeting Fiona at her request but she doesn’t remember me.” 

 

    “Alexius distorted time itself to beat you here, in order to use the mages to get to you. The downside being that the magic is incredibly unstable. It tears holes in time itself. You’ve seen it yourself, the way the rifts make time speed up or slow down, and then pour demons just for good measure.” Dorian could only repeat the little he knew from Felix, and hoped he would be here soon to elaborate. 

 

    “Why would he do that?” she asked, razors in her voice. Right to the point, this one, and just in time for Felix to answer. 

 

    “He’s trying to get to you, and we don’t know why. It has something to do with the mark on your hand. Then venatori talk about an elder one, who sent them here.” Dorian glanced at Felix, not wanting to ask if the elder one was responsible for the functional time magic. Better that Kelasi thought they were more put together. “I apologize, I thought father would be fussing over me forever. I meant to get here sooner.” 

 

    “The who?” She looked back and forth between the two of them. “And why would the two people close to Alexius work to stop him?” Dorian hoped Vivienne would remember more about him than the fact that he got drunk at a party in Orlais. He’d grown since then, and would hate to have it color Kelasi’s opinion of him. 

 

    “The venatori. They’re tevinter supremacists,” Felix replied. “And what my father’s doing is dangerous. He’s tearing holes in time itself and the rifts are spreading.” Felix wheezed, and had to stop talking at that point. It was subtle, but Dorian was used to keeping an eye on Felix. Felix shook his head almost imperceptibly, and Dorian knew that he couldn’t help. 

 

    “I agree that what he’s doing is very dangerous. He risks more than just Redcliffe, if the rifts continue spreading.” Dorian looked at Felix, seeing if he should continue or if Felix was ready to talk. 

 

    “I know the meeting father requested was probably a trap. But I think it’s worth it, to try and stop whatever he’s doing to the mages, and to get to you. I think it’s the only way that we’ll find out,” Felix finished. He looked so pale.

 

     "Be careful, Felix," Dorian told him. He meant, don't risk your health, but didn't want to say so in front of Kelasi. Felix turned back to face him, sad expression on his face.

 

     "There are worse things than dying, Dorian." Felix shuffled off, leaving Dorian with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

 

    “Alright. I’ll need to talk to my advisors before anything happens.” She and her party turned to leave, and Dorian made a mental note to find out where he needed to show up. It wouldn’t do to let these rifts fester. 

 

**. . .**

 

     Dorian woke up the next day to knocking on the door. He rolled out of bed and answered, wondering why anyone needed him this early. To his surprise, it was the innkeeper. He didn’t look any happier about the hour than Dorian felt. 

 

    “Someone paid me to give you this note as soon as possible.” He grunted and headed back for the stairs. That was odd. 

 

    Dorian read the note. Apparently there were two horses with tack outside, saddlebags full of trail rations and better camping gear. A map was attached to the note, with directions to Haven, where he could meet Kelasi to help prevent more time rifts from forming. This was one way to get the information he wanted, even if it was an odd one. Dorian shrugged, and woke Krem up. He was curious enough that he looked at the map while Krem was getting dressed. 

 

    He sighed. Even if the horses were a trap, which wouldn’t surprise him, they would need them, along with the food. Otherwise it would take almost twice as long to get where they were going, and it would be a very hungry trip.  This mysterious note nonsense made his skin crawl, but between he and Krem, they could handle any trap. He hoped.Time to start packing. It was surprising how far everything could migrate in such a tiny room. 

 

    As he was crawling under the bed to retrieve some socks, there was another knock at the door. Krem was still getting dressed, so Dorian wiggled out and answered it.There was someone dressed in Inquisition scouting gear, holding a small pouch. He handed it over without a word, his brown eyes blinking a good bye. When Dorian opened it, it contained gold and a note, stating that the sender didn’t trust the innkeeper to pass it along and not take any. This kept getting stranger. 

 

    At last, everything had been retrieved. All of their bags were neatly packed, and they took their packs down to the stables. Two of the horses had their tack laid out, with notes on the door labelling the large black one for Krem, and a beautiful silver grey horse for Dorian. 

 

    Dorian didn’t know the most about horses, but he could tell that she looked older, perfect for someone who was unused to riding. Both Krem and Dorian tacked up, Dorian feeling uneasy when he noticed the saddles would perfectly hold his pack. Who would know this much about him and still want him to go to Haven? He sighed. This entire trip had been one pain after another, and the over he’d been hoping for seemed a long way off. There was nothing he could do about it now, except keep moving forward. Krem led his horse out of the stall, and they left for the gate. The guards let them out, and they were on their way. 

 

**. . .**

 

     It took them six days to get to Haven, thanks to the fine mounts. His mount was old, but she still preferred keeping up over grass. Considering she was the second horse he’d ever ridden, she was his favorite. It was both colder and more pleasant than he expected. One of the things in the saddlebags was a thick fur robe, split to go down his legs while he was in the saddle. Krem’s saddlebags also held a decent tent, so they were plenty warm at night as well. None of the food seemed poisoned, thankfully, even if it was bland

 

    The town was imposing, sturdy walls with siege equipment barely visible. Soldiers trained everywhere, the sounds of steel meeting steel ringing out. There was the woman with the scar, attacking a training dummy and sending straw flying.. He could pick out a few people in Templar plate, as well as a few mages in robes. Many were in armor he didn’t recognize, probably from arlings. There were even a few people in Chantry robes. This was a very diverse group, all brought together because they believed fixing the hole in the sky was a greater duty than their truest beliefs. 

 

    It was interesting, and made him wonder what his dearest beliefs were. What would make him abandon everything he knew and held dear? That was easier than he expected it to be, considering he was in the ass end of Ferelden. He would do whatever it took to keep Filomena, Krem, Felix, and Alvina safe. Interesting that Krem was on that list, when everyone else had known him for several years. What happened that he felt so protective of someone he’d known for so little time?  

 

    It wasn’t something he entirely understood, really. He stepped in to protect Krem because he could do so without getting hurt. Which didn’t explain why he fought so hard to get Krem a job, and then help him keep it. There was something about the injustice there that made him want to fight, and to change things. He couldn’t explain everything leading up to that moment, all of the things he felt and wanted to change. Something had started a snowball of feelings, but it was so small he hadn’t noticed at the time.

 

    Now he was here, and for the first time in his life, he liked himself. He stood for something, changed things, became who he needed to be. He was a man who was there for his family, his friends. It felt surprisingly homey here, realizing how much he understood all of these people. Only to blush when he realized he didn’t notice the Inquisition scout standing at attention. No doubt she was here for them. 

 

    She took their horses, dropping them off at a pen outside the walls before leading them inside. She took them to a tent outside of what looked like a Chantry. A redhaired woman in chainmail had her back to them as she looked over papers. She waited a beat before speaking. 

 

    “I’m pleased you’ve arrived so soon. I believe the mages in Redcliffe are our best chance at closing the breach, and I believe you can help.” Her smile wasn’t encouraging. Nor was her lack of introduction. “All I need for you to do is enter at the right time. Nothing has the ability to make a point like a dramatic entrance, no? Volunteer to help Kelasi, and we’ll make sure to keep Felix safe when everything is done.” 

 

     “I… Ah. I can do that,” he replied. This was all very strange. 

 

     “Good. You’ll know when,” she said as he walked into the Chantry. Would he though? He sighed, hiding in the redhead’s tent until he saw Kelasi enter the Chantry. He waited an extra moment or two before heading in, and then he understood what the redhead meant about knowing. The doors further in didn’t block sound at all, did they? 

 

    It took a minute or two to hear something that sounded like a cue. He used a small amount of force magic to throw the doors inward, Krem standing faithfully behind him as always. All of the faces looked up at him, clearly shocked. Even the redhead, though she winked at him. 

 

    “And you won’t need to worry, because I’ll be there to protect you,” Dorian said with a smile. 

 

    “And I’ll be there to protect him,” Krem followed, hand on the mace in his belt.

 

    “That's taken care of then,” the redhead said. What he’d heard of their plan seemed sound at least. It would’ve been nice to go into this with more control, but it was elegantly done, and Felix would be as safe as he could be. 

 

     Another surprise was how quickly everyone was ready to leave. The same horse he’d so appreciated on the ride up here had full saddlebags, his pack, and his staff. There was a small pouch he didn’t recognize, and when he opened it, there was lyrium and elfroot. Never a bad thing, though how they got ahold of lyrium was an excellent question. He’d tried to find some in Redcliffe, and hadn’t had any luck. 

 

    Krem also had the same horse, also without a surprise. His saddlebags seemed to have more compartments, and when Dorian asked, Krem explained that his were sorted survival supplies. His clothing had been tucked into Dorian’s bag, to make it easier to set up and take down camp, if there wasn’t one already set up by the Inquisition. 

 

    That wasn’t the only way their travel was more efficient. They had groups of workers making the road repairs arls couldn’t, troops of scouts routing them around any chaos they needed to avoid, and focused mounts. Most of the time, he stayed with Krem, feeling safer when his friend was nearby. Sometimes he would spend time talking to Vivienne, usually about wine or politics. They had similar taste in wine, but he found her views on magic somewhat conservative. She knew the ins and outs of the Inquisition though, what they did, who they offended, and what Josephine was working on. It was fascinating to learn about what made something as broad as the Inquisition work. 

 

    The warrior with a scar was equally interesting to talk to. Cassandra fought with a sword and shield, driving the group quickly. It took him very little time to make her angry. From what he’d heard of the seekers while he was in Redcliffe, they could have done more to prevent the mage rebellion. She agreed with him, although she still cared for the order and wanted to see it do better. He knew how that went, so he apologized. Tevinter could be better if people made the right choices, and that made it worth fighting for to him. 

 

    Kelasi stayed a bit of a mystery. She didn’t like to talk about herself much, and was wary of everything and everyone. Vivienne got along with her well, though he never felt like eavesdropping to figure out what they were talking about. Kelasi wanted to go over strategy, his history, and anything he could tell her that might make dealing with Alexius easier. Sometimes she would wake up screaming, although when he asked her about her nightmare, she would tell him dwarves didn’t dream. He wasn’t sure how much he believed, but he wasn’t one to push where he wasn’t wanted. 

 

    It took four days to get to Redcliffe with Cassandra driving them along. They arrived as the sun was starting to dip below the horizon. His stomach dipped with it as they walked up the steps to Redcliffe castle. A steward greeted them, stating the invitation was only for the inquisitor. They’d planned for this. She stared the steward down, offering to meet Alexius outside if he couldn’t accommodate her friends. 

 

    Sure enough, the five of them walked in. Kelasi led, Cassandra at her right shoulder and Vivienne at her left. Dorian followed, Krem echoing Cassandra’s posture at his right shoulder. It steadied him to know that Krem was here, if something happened. 

 

    Alexius talked about an elder one, raising Tevinter from the ashes. The ashes of what, he couldn’t help but wonder. He was just glad that Alexius was focused on the conversation. The Inquisition agents were good, but he could still hear wet sounds and the soft thumps of bodies hitting the ground. He felt sympathy for the people who paid with their lives for being loyal to the person they served, even if he knew it was necessary. 

 

    When the call to attack didn’t do anything except make him look foolish, Alexius pulled out an amulet. He yelled at the Inquisitor, threatening to unmake her. When Dorian felt the magic build, he reacted. 

 

    “No!” Dorian yelled as he realized what Alexius intended. A blast of magic threw off the necklace, and a rift opened, pulling Kelasi in. It started to close, and Dorian looked back at Krem. He was too far back to make it into the rift. It felt like leaving half of himself behind, but he dove into the rift after Kelasi. 

 

    He promised to protect her, and he would make good on that promise. 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got a new puppy! You can blame her for the sleep I'm not getting that let me pull this off, almost 10k words three days early. I've been working on this story for almost a year now, thanks for sticking with me <3\. Thanks as always to dreabean for the beta!
> 
> Her fiction is over here!   
> [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dreabean/works)!

    The rift dumped Dorian into a puddle of water. When he stood up, the water melted off. Strange armor the Inquisition had given him. Hides stitched together with thick thread, a sash, metal down one arm and the other bare. The metal was warm against his skin, even after taking a dunk in the water. He wanted to talk to the crafter. But people were trying to attack him, so maybe he needed to pay attention to that instead. 

 

    Kelasi was ahead of him, taking a deep breath before drawing her bow all the way back. She held it a moment, and then an arrow flew through the air. One of the guards in front of them fell, and Dorian noticed the blue dots on her bow that were reflecting off of the water. Lyrium, perhaps? It would explain how her bow could bend farther than someone would expect. He stood up, his own lyrium tipped staff glowing blue. A blast of ice, followed by one of Kelasi’s arrows, and the second guard went down. 

 

    “Where are we?” she asked as she started rifling through the pockets of the guards. 

 

    “I think it’s less a question of where we are, and more a question of when we are. Alexius sent us through time, so the question becomes forward or backward.” His thoughts raced around his head, running through the possibilities of what to do now. First things first, he had a promise to keep. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here to protect you.” He hoped he could keep better track of her than he could of Krem. Half of his mind was here, watching her unlock the gate of the room they were in, and half of his mind was worried about Krem. 

 

    Where would Krem have ended up in this time? Hopefully it wouldn’t matter much, and this time wouldn’t exist for very long. It would just be a matter of finding the amulet, and undoing the magic. The gate creaked open, and they exited into a hall. Red lyrium was several feet thick on the walls, giving off a discordant hum that reminded him of lyrium in the fade, only harsher. The closer he got to the lyrium, the more it made his head hurt. 

 

    A black substance he didn’t recognize fell through the air. It looked like ash, but he couldn’t smell any evidence of fire, and it wasn’t quite the right texture. The beetles on the floor seemed to enjoy it, though they struggled to get to it with all of the cracks in the floor and on the walls. Tree roots were everywhere, but it didn’t look like they caused all of the damage. How much time had gone by for the castle to deteriorate this much? 

 

    Kelasi motioned for him to stop as they reached a crossroads. She peered ahead, her bow drawn and ready. It took Dorian a moment to realize that she heard the same singing that he did, and she wanted them to move forward when no one else was there. There was a tranquil Dorian had seen at the inn, a tuneless song pouring out of him from inside his cell. His eyes were black, with an eerie red glow. What was happening to him? 

 

    “Can you tell me anything about what’s going on here?” Kelasi kept her tone gentle, clearly trying not to frighten him. He didn’t reply, simply kept singing. The longer it went on, the more Dorian could tell that it was  on the same pitch as the red lyrium deeper in the cell. When the tranquil didn’t answer, Kelasi started to move on. It hurt to leave him there, until Dorian remembered that nothing would be the same as soon as he found the amulet. 

 

    The hairs on the back of his neck stood up the further they travelled. The red lyrium was everywhere, and it reflected off of the water in a way that made him think of blood. He tried to keep his footsteps as quiet as Kelasi’s, but it was difficult in the water. How she was staying so silent, he had no idea. 

 

    When they made it to a flight of stairs, she melted into the shadows. He understood why when he followed behind her, being as stealthy as he could. There were three venatori, and by the time he’d gathered enough magic to form a spell, one of them was already dead from an arrow. He froze one in place, leaving it to Kelasi to shatter it with her arrows, and blasted the third into the wall with force magic.

 

    They turned the corner, to find another flight of stairs. They led up to a metal floor over water, holes there to allow it to drain. This was probably the cistern of the castle, for when it was under siege. There was a closed door to either side, and a place in front of them where a bridge could lead to another door. 

 

    Kelasi listened at both closed doors, not appearing to hear anything. She shrugged, and headed down the stairs to their right. She kept her bow drawn as she went around corners, Dorian following as far behind as he could while still staying close enough to feel like he could protect her. He didn’t want his noisy footsteps to give them away. 

 

    She made sure to go into every room, checking for people and digging for whatever she could. Through jars, chests, sacks, journals. Everything went into the bag on her back, or stuffed into a journal she carried around. A sense of urgency built up in him. Didn’t they have more important things to do than go through everything in here? It finally got to where he couldn’t stand it. 

 

    “What are you looking for?” Dorian asked. She looked at him, brow furrowed as if he should already know. 

 

    “We went through the rift with all of our things. There might be something worth selling,  or materials to give to our crafters, or gold, and most importantly, there might be information. There seems to be a chance that we’ve been sent forward in time, and if we can get ahold of their plans, we will know better how to stop them.” All of that would’ve been more comforting if she hadn’t been looking at him as though he was stupid the entire time. 

 

    “I guess that makes sense. I’m not used to thinking about information as being the most valuable thing we could find.” Much to his relief, she grinned. 

 

    “We can’t all be raised as Carta spies from birth. I have no idea how to reverse Alexius’ amulet though, so we both have strengths that will help us get out of this mess.” There was a twinkle in her eye he rather enjoyed. He might get some more friends out of this, and wouldn’t that be odd. 

 

   They continued down the stairs, and he heard a voice he felt like he should recognize. It was speaking part of the chant. Something about how faith would guide and protect, but it was hard to believe considering where they were. Kelasi entered, and they saw Cassandra sitting with her back to them. Her cell was full of red lyrium, and when she turned to face them, Dorian jumped. Her eyes looked like the tranquil’s, radiating red light. 

 

    “You have returned to us, can it be? Has Andraste given me another chance? Maker forgive me, I failed you, I failed everyone. The end must truly be upon us if the dead return to life.” She sounded resigned to her fate, and Dorian had to wonder exactly how bad everything had gotten. 

 

    “I’m not dead… I’m, well, it’s hard to explain.” Kelasi replied. There was concern stamped on her face. 

 

    “I was there, the magister obliterated you.” The guilt in Cassandra’s tone made Dorian flinch. She felt like she failed, and he knew how that felt. The longer it took him to find Krem, the worse his guilt became. 

 

    “Alexius pulled us forward in time, and we’re trying to see if we can reverse it.” He danced impatiently from foot to foot, wanting to have the amulet in his hands and erase whatever this error in time was. 

 

    “Go back in time? Then… can you make it so that none of this ever took place?” She sounded so hopeful, and Dorian had to wonder how badly everything must have gone for her to want to erase it. “Alexius’ master. After you died, we could not stop the Elder One from rising. Empress Celene was murdered, and there was nothing we could do to stop the army of demons.” Just when he thought he couldn’t be more creeped out by what was going on, he found out otherwise. 

 

    “I should have been there to help you,” Kelasi replied. She sounded sad and resigned, as if she was used to these choices being made for her. Considering where she was, and what he knew of what she’d been through, that made a certain amount of sense. He couldn’t help but wonder if that got better with time, or if it was a fresh hurt every time. 

 

    “You’re here now,” Cassandra told them as she stepped out of the cell Kelasi unlocked. Kelasi pulled out a sword and shield from her pack, putting them in Cassandra’s hands. Was there anything that she didn’t have in that bag? Probably just Alexius’ amulet, which is a shame, because that would’ve been convenient. 

 

    After Cassandra got geared up, they went around the corner to another cell. Someone was in the back cell, though with the red lyrium, it was hard to make out. It took up the whole cell and swallowed a pair of hands. Was that… Fiona? 

 

    “You’re alive?” Funny how Cassandra and Fiona were different but sounded similar when they were talking about Kelasi. “I saw you disappear into the rift.” Kelasi looked too stunned to respond for a moment, focusing on what had all of their attention. 

 

    “Is that red lyrium growing out of your body? How?” Kelasi’s hands clenched and unclenched, as though she wanted to destroy the lyrium with her bow. 

 

    “The longer you’re near it, the more this happens, until they can mine your body for more to seed the next body.” Fiona groaned as the lyrium shifted, pulling her arms forward. Dorian hoped he didn’t have to see Krem like this. 

 

    “Can you tell us the year?” he interjected. He didn’t want to think about the fact that this might be happening to Krem. All he wanted to do was focus on stopping whatever this was. 

 

    “Harvest mead, 9:42 dragon,” Fiona managed to spit out through clenched teeth. She groaned as her arms pulled more forward, and her stomach further away. 

 

    “We missed an entire year? We have to get out of here and go back in time,” Dorian said impatiently. This was an awful lot of change for just a year. How long had these plans been in progress? Wanting information was starting to make so much more sense now. 

 

    “Please,” Fiona gasped, “stop this from happening. Alexius serves the elder one. More powerful the maker, no one challenges him and lives.”

 

    “I promise, I will do everything in my power to make sure this never happens.” The determination in Kelasi’s voice gave him hope, to a degree. 

 

    “Our only hope is to find the amulet Alexius used and use it to send us back in time. Maybe.” There were dangers in using a magical object that powerful, let alone one where he was unfamiliar. 

 

    “Good,” Fiona replied as her torso started to get absorbed by the lyrium. 

 

    “I said maybe. It might also turn us into paste.” Paste might be preferable to living in this world, considering what he’d seen of it. He started going through everything he knew from when he and Alexius worked together the last time, trying to remember whatever he could. Thankfully, it was quite a lot. If he could get enough time, he was sure that he could do it. Maybe. 

 

   “You must try, stop the elder one.” Those were the last words Fiona spoke, as she melted the rest of the way into the red lyrium. Something jumped out at him. 

 

    “If red lyrium is an infection… Maker, why is it coming out of the walls?” Could that be the cause for the change in tones? Different people made for a different red lyrium sound? He shuddered. 

 

    “Are you sure you want to find out?” Kelasi retorted. She was looking at him with concern, and he took a deep breath and forced himself to move on. There were things more pressing than his feelings at the moment. They wound their way back to the room with the metal floor, heading down the opposite hallway. 

 

    Cassandra waited patiently, standing guard at the door while Kelasi looked through everything. He forced himself to take deep breaths, and not rush her. Any information they could get would make it easier to prevent this future from coming true. Telling himself that didn’t make him feel any more patient. All he felt was an urgent need to get to Krem. 

 

    Eventually they ended up in a room that mirrored where they found Cassandra. He could see Vivienne’s back through the cell bars, though she was silent. Was watching the lyrium grow her way of bracing herself for what was going to happen? Or did she just not want to look at the world outside her cell. She rose to greet them, a haughty expression on her face. 

 

    “What is this supposed to be, a pretend rescue designed to gain my trust? Do you think I’d fall for that?” She sounded pissed. He probably would’ve been too, in her defense. 

 

     “No trick. I’m here to help.” Kelasi looked like she expected this from Vivienne. Did she know more about the red lyrium than he did? Probably, though that wasn’t hard at the moment. 

 

    “You were obliterated, I was there. You can drop the ruse.” Something still pushed Vivienne towards the front of her cell, peering intently at Kelasi. 

 

    “No trick I’m afraid, Alexius accidentally sent us through time.” Dorian tried to smile, make her warm up to him the way she had on the way here, but she just scoffed. 

 

     “He sent you to this time? Was that meant to be a fate worse than death?” The scorn on her face looked more suited to a fancy ball than this cell, and Kelasi popped the door open soon enough. 

 

     “What happened? You don’t look well.” Kelasi couldn’t seem to stop herself from asking, though Dorian figured it was the same thing that happened to Fiona. 

 

     “Red lyrium. It’s killing me. Don’t worry your head about it darling. Let’s move on, any place is better than here.” She walked out of the cell as if she was making a grand entrance to a ball. Kelasi handed her a staff, and she took her place behind Cassandra. A groan of pain echoed around the room, and Dorian ran towards it. He knew what he expected to find, but it still nearly tore him in half when he saw Krem in the cell, eyes glowing red. It took all of his willpower not to scream, and beat the door open with force magic. Somehow, despite everything, including the pain he was probably in, Krem smiled at Dorian. 

 

     “I knew he couldn’t get rid of you that easily. I knew if I waited long enough you’d come back for me.” Krem limped forward, eagerly waiting for Kelasi to pick the lock on his cell door. Dorian gave Krem a weak smile in return, his heart going out to his friend. There was a snapping noise as Krem tore forward, ripping his foot off a chunk of lyrium. Instead of bleeding, his foot leaked some of the same ash-like substance that drifted through the air here. Dorian looked on in horror as Krem geared up, until Krem looked him in the eye. “You alright? I don’t look too horrible do I?” 

 

    “You’re limping, is all,” Dorian managed to tell him in a steady tone of voice. 

 

    “Yeah, I think the lyrium might’ve taken some of my foot with it. But you have a plan to get us all out of this don’t you?” Krem looked at him with such faith. What had he done to deserve this? He’d left Krem behind in favor of protecting a stranger. 

 

    “Yes, I’ll make sure this gets taken care of.” Dorian smiled at Krem. If he looked, he could still see the man who’d made this journey with him. Sure, Krem didn’t usually creak, but the look on his face was the same. Such faith, through a long time. He gripped Krem’s shoulder, and they headed back up the stairs. 

 

    Part of the way up, Kelasi motioned for them to stop. They could hear guards, and the sound of a drawbridge clanging around. One of them said something about Alexius being locked away in the great hall. Dorian heard the now familiar sound of Kelasi lining up her shot, casting a barrier over their party as the arrow flew. 

 

    Cassandra sounded a war horn, and he found himself with a much better understanding of the flow of battle. She and Krem handled them at melee, as he dropped barriers and froze them where he could. It looked similar to how he’d seen them fight, but Vivienne’s magic would flare and spurt unexpectedly, as if it was suddenly flooded with power. Cassandra would try to move out of the way and stagger, clearly disoriented. Krem seemed steady, except for his limp. His aim was a little off, but all of them together made quick work of the venatori. 

 

    They moved on, heading forward. There was so much blood here, along with the ichor abominations left behind when they died. Flies were everywhere, and the beetles crawled skeletons with various amounts of flesh. Why were they still there? Someone should’ve been by to clean them up by now. Gooseflesh crawled across his arms as Kelasi motioned for them to stop. A second later, he heard why. 

 

    “The maker is dead, and soon the Elder One will rule from his city.” There was a wet thump of a fist, followed by a splatter of what he guessed was blood on stone. “Renounce him and we might let you live.” It was followed by a spitting sound. 

 

    “I’ll die a good Andrastian before I ever renounce the maker.” Her statement was followed by a scream, and the sound of a neck snapping. Kelasi rushed the door, one of the guards falling to an arrow and the other a wall of ice. Vivienne’s eyes were glowing, and she cried out in pain. The lyrium had added magic to her spell, but it seemed to be making her pay for it. A red crystal poked out of her shoulder, humming a high pitch. 

 

    “The Elder One has been particularly hard on the Chantry,” Vivienne said as she returned his stare. He averted his eyes, realizing how rude he’d been. She carried on, turning to leave the room and follow Kelasi. They weren’t going to talk about it then. Probably just as well if they managed to go back in time. Cassandra had already left, though Krem was looking at his feet. When Krem looked up, Dorian smiled, and Krem relaxed. Dorian caught up with the group as Kelasi stopped, a shout travelling down the hallway. 

 

    “How did the dwarf find out about the sacrifice at the temple? Tell me!” A voice yelled, sounding frustrated. He might’ve been aiming for intimidation, but it didn’t work as he could hear laughing. Was that… The redhead from Haven?  

 

    “No,” she replied. Dorian wondered how often they did this dance, because she didn’t make very much noise at the wet thudding sounds. Something made a sizzling noise and he flinched, growing more queasy as she finally gave up and started screaming. 

 

     Cassandra was moving, Kelasi knocking an arrow as she ran. Vivienne had her staff out, though she didn’t look eager to use it. He didn’t blame her. Krem stayed in front of him, shield raised and ready as they followed. Dorian’s heart ached every time Krem limped. If they got back, Krem wouldn’t have to suffer, and it would be like 

 

    “You will break!” the man yelled, Cassandra close to the door. Kelasi motioned for her to wait. 

 

    “I will die first,” she replied. Kelasi squeaked the door open. There was a savage smile on the woman’s face, though it was wrinkled. How could this have happened to her in only a year? Then he remembered the time magic Alexius possessed. That was a novel form of torture. “Or you will,” She added when she saw Kelasi, wrapping her legs around the man’s neck as he threatened her with a knife. 

 

    In the few horrible seconds it took him to die, Dorian looked around the room. There were torture implements everywhere. Most of them were stained with blood, and the room smelled like burning flesh and rot. How many of these things had they used on her? It made him sick to think about it, but puke would worsen the stench and he didn’t think he could handle that either. 

 

     “You’re alive,” the redhead told Kelasi. Odd that she didn’t have the same questions as the rest of them. 

 

    “That was impressive, Leliana.” Kelasi replied. Judging from the smirk on her face she enjoyed that little display. Good to know she was like Mena, with an eye for other ladies. Leliana’s stare was cold enough that the smirk disappeared. 

 

    “Anger is stronger than any pain,” she replied. “Do you have weapons?” she asked. Kelasi nodded. “Good.” .That had to be a very strong anger, for her not to break in all that time, with all of the pressure. She might find it comforting to know that they could erase all of the things she’d been through. Odd that she hadn’t asked about their plan. 

 

    “Aren’t you curious?” Dorian asked. She turned towards him, same dead eyes staring him down. 

 

    “No.” She picked up the bow Kelasi had for her, checking the quiver of arrows. 

 

    “Alexius sent us into the future, this was never meant to be.” Somehow it comforted everyone else he spoke to, but it didn’t seem to work for Leliana. 

 

    “I’m sorry for everything you suffered,” Kelasi added, and Dorian could see Leliana soften slightly at the sympathy. Not enough to make her stop glaring at him, just enough that he could tell that it mattered. 

 

    “We have to go back in time and reverse this,” Dorian added. He looked sadly at Krem, catching up to them with his limp. He was still smiling, even as the rate of black pouring out of his foot increased. He was never far from Dorian, shield at the ready. Even if his arm shook, he would keep Dorian safe. Dorian’s heart hurt, and he wanted more than anything to undo this for Krem. 

 

    “Mages wonder why people fear them. No one should have that kind of power.” Her voice somehow got colder, lined with everything she’d suffered. Which was probably a lot, considering the smell of rot seemed to be coming from her. Her chain mail could be hiding a great many wounds. 

 

    “We can make sure this never happens,” Dorian replied with a determination he didn’t feel. He was still somewhat worried they would be turned into paste, but the more he saw of this future, the less he wanted it to happen. It would be worth the risk for Krem alone. 

 

    “This is real,” Leliana replied. “I suffered. We suffered. The whole world suffered.” His heart thundered in his chest, and he looked at Krem, who wasn’t smiling any more. Not expecting Dorian to be looking at him, his face was contorted in pain. He was using one hand to rub at the place in his leg where the lyrium ended and Krem began. He looked away before Krem noticed him staring. Even if he managed to undo this, would that really erase the suffering? Or would some part of Krem remember, the same way Fiona felt confused when Alexius rewound time? It wouldn’t change what he had to do, but it would make him ache more for what Krem suffered. What, exactly had he suffered? 

 

    “What exactly happened in the year before we got here?” Dorian asked. 

 

    “Stop talking,” she replied as she followed Kelasi. “Nothing happened that you want to hear.” She too had the ability to have silent footsteps on the cobblestones. That made him sick. Nothing? Nothing good came out of any of this? 

 

    They came to a room with a rift in it, and the structural damage to the castle made more sense. The stones were cracked under the rift, with stones that looked like they’d been tossed everywhere. There were tree roots nearby that seemed to be growing at an alarming rate, time magic at work. 

 

    The six of them made quick work of the demons, and when the rift made the familiar gurgle that meant more demons were on the way, he cast a dispel. Vivienne did as well, crying out as the red in her eyes dimmed. How much of her was lyrium that a dispel would hurt her? Kelasi closed the rift while Vivienne regained her strength, her eyes completely black. Krem looked over at Dorian, and he nodded. Krem tapped her elbow, offering his arm.

 

     “Thank you darling, my vision should be fine in a minute. I did this quite often for a while, in an effort to prevent the infection from spreading.”  She took his arm, and he managed to do an admirable job of keeping her from tripping. Kelasi continued leading, Vivienne ready to drop Krem’s arm in a few moments. A voice echoed back to them, sounding eerie against the stone. 

 

    “The magister needs more power for his spells.” The voice was male, sounding slightly sinister. 

 

    “But you wouldn’t do that, you know me. Please, please don’t hurt me!” The female voice cut off with a scream, and Kelasi rushed forward. They weren’t in time to save the woman, but they took down the people who were causing the chaos. All of this seemed so different from the man who told him that blood magic was never the answer, that there was always another way. 

 

    “Alexius can’t have wanted this,” Dorian mused allowed. It earned him a glare from Leliana. 

 

    “Whether or not he wanted it, this is how the world is, and he is the one who made it.” She could make him feel so small with so few words. It was more awkward for him when Kelasi found a supply of potions. Leliana spent the entire time they paused glaring at him. When all of them were as healthy as they could be while growing red lyrium, they headed out the door to to the courtyard. 

 

    “The breach!” The Inquisitor exclaimed. “It’s everywhere!” She sounded terrified, and Dorian 

couldn’t blame her. The entire sky was a sickly shade of green, swirling and dropping demons. Leliana looked at as though this were normal. How long had it been like this?

 

    “Rfits tore apart all of Southern Thedas, starting here, but whether that’s Alexius’ doing or the breach, who can say.” Leliana surveyed the courtyard, content to let them stay put and get used to the idea while no one was shooting at them. 

 

    In front of them, there was a statue that was half red lyrium. How had it gotten there? Did they tie someone to it, until it started taking over a statue? There was more on a tree. He hoped that the lyrium wasn’t picky about the life it grew on. He didn’t want to think about how it got there otherwise. 

 

    When Alexius had said he was willing to ruin the world, Dorian hadn’t believed him. Now he was looking at the world, in ruins. Hard to imagine that someone as frail as Felix had been could survive in this new world. It was built on cruelty, devouring the good, the bad, and the in between to turn them into red lyrium. There was no room here for the curious boy who snuck him treats. 

 

    “What became of Felix, do you know?” He realized he was asking Leliana, as if she was in a position to know. She’d clearly known about what he was up to in Redcliffe, so he turned to her. Except for the part where she was unlikely to have the same resources here. 

 

    “Yes,” she replied, her eyes fixed firmly on Kelasi and where she was going. Even talking to him, her footsteps didn’t make any noise. 

 

    “And you’re not going to tell me?” Dorian asked, peeved. Why was she so determined to hide the reality of this time from him? 

 

    “You’ll find out soon enough,” she finished as she calmly shot one of the Venatori in a large room. He sighed, dropping a barrier around everyone and moving in behind Kelasi. As much as he’d trained, combat magic still felt unfamiliar and awkward sometimes. For the most part, he blasted magic at people until they were dead or no longer a problem, casting barriers whenever he could remember. Kelasi seemed to take care of most of the venatori anyway. What, precisely, was that bow made out of? 

 

    Something glimmered from one of the bodies of the Venatori. The one with the biggest staff, and why was it that so many mages felt the need to carry something that big? Big staves didn’t mean big power. He sighed, he was getting off track, and moved closer to inspect the shimmer. 

 

    “Curious. This is a piece of red lyrium that’s been shaped into something.” He spotted the door lock at the end of the hall. “It looks like it should go here, and that there’s five more of them. I guess this is what the guard was talking about when he said Alexius had locked himself in.” Dorian slid the lyrium piece into place, not wanting to lose it. 

 

     “Alright,” Kelasi replied, bow drawn and moving towards a door. There were faint noises on the other side. “Let’s keep killing Venatori until we have all of the pieces.” Grim but functional. They went from room to room, Kelasi still searching through everything. Krem helped, and though he couldn’t bend either of his knees very well, he seemed to understand what she was looking for. They worked well together, Krem grabbing everything higher up, and her lower down. 

 

    Before long, they were several thousand gold richer, and armed with information about the Venatori. They also had full packs of crafting supplies, and extra weapons for everyone in their party. Kelasi had even found a magic ring that seemed to make her shimmer in and out slightly. Sometimes he would reach over to poke her shoulder and point out an ambush spot, and his finger would go right through her. It was a marvel, and he was starting to understand her point about searching being worth it. 

 

    Even so, he looked forward to finding the last piece of red lyrium they needed. Creeping down hallways was getting tedious. More so when Leliana pointedly pointed at him, her eyes, and her feet, before putting a finger over her lips. He sighed, not sure how much he could pick up from watching. A little, apparently, though he still stayed in the back. Voices echoed down the hallway, sounding panicked. His heart sank, and everyone surged forward. Kelasi threw open the door, bow drawn and ready to defend whoever she could. 

 

    “Connor, no!” she yelled. Cassandra blocked what he could see, so he pushed passed her into the room. Kelasi flinched back as a spray of blood hit her across the face. It was too late. He had killed himself, blood covering the room, eerily similar to red lyrium. There were tears on her face as she dispatched the demons standing by Connor’s corpse. “We could’ve helped him,” she murmured as she started search the room. She pulled her hands to her face to wipe the tears, only to notice how bloody they were. 

 

    “How did you know him?” Dorian asked, unsure if he should get a handkerchief to help. He’d manage to avoid most of the blood, though Cassandra hadn’t been so lucky. 

 

    “I smuggled lyrium to his parents. They wanted to make sure that they had some on hand in case they ever needed it. After he was possessed by a demon to save his father and lyrium saved him, I don’t blame them.” She had a slightly stricken expression on her face. “We could’ve helped him.” 

 

    “I doubt it, darling. Alexius has been studying so many ways to torture mages, this appears to be the latest.” The lyrium in Vivienne’s eyes grew brighter as she got angry. Dorian had a feeling she was speaking from experience. Kelasi just looked at Vivienne, covered in blood, tears making clean streaks down her face. She didn’t seem to have the capacity for any more sorrow. Thankfully, Vivienne didn’t say anything more. A miracle considering how little tact she had left. 

 

    “Let’s go,” Kelasi replied woodenly. She left the room without searching it, careful not to look at any of the blood on the floor. Her steps were still quiet, but they made a wet noise when she walked until the blood wiped off on the floor. The prints she left looked grizzly, and he could almost see the red lyrium reaching out for it. He shuddered. 

 

    Voices echoed around the corner, and Kelasi went into one of the rooms. No one was in it, but muffled voices came through a door. Kelasi picked the lock, while Dorian listened. It almost sounded like they were repurposing the Chant to honor the Elder One? He shivered, forcing himself to pay attention as Kelasi stood up, and peeked into the room. The door was just wide enough for her to poke out her bow, and an arrow flew. Someone cried out, and he heard the familiar sounds of a mage blinking in and out of existence. 

 

    The power for a dispel was in his hands before he could think about it. Blinking like that was a sign of a powerful mage, and he knew how poorly they tended to do when cut off from magic. Even if he hadn’t learned much else about combat magic, the instructors had drilled that into his head. 

 

    Cassandra beat him to it, a powerful Templar ability slamming the mage into the ground. She cried out, her eyes going black just as Vivienne’s had, but somehow she managed to keep fighting. He kept a barrier on her, because she didn’t seem to be able to see any of the people using mundane weapons, but she hounded the mage. Anywhere he appeared, she was there to cut off his magic. Dorian marveled as she cut him out of the fight entirely, leaving the guards to be flanked by Krem and Vivienne. 

 

    Krem cried out, and Dorian forgot all about keeping Cassandra safe. He’d never managed it before, but he tore into the fade, summoning enough power to land himself in front of Krem. His staff was in front of him, and he tapped the guard on the chest with it. The guard crumpled in front of his eyes, withering from the inside out. Mortalitasi magic could do that in theory, but even after years of study he could only perform a similar magic on small plants. He was burning through mana fast this way, but he didn’t care. 

 

    He would use his own blood to power his magic if it would keep Krem safe. 

 

    The other guard was still tangled with Vivienne, who was managing to parry his sword with her staff. Her eyes weren’t glowing red yet, and she was using the smallest magics possible to take him down. Dorian strode toward him, wanting to try something else he’d learned about but hadn’t managed yet. He tapped his staff to the back of the guard’s head, waited for the man to turn, and watched him explode. Then sagged to the floor as all of his energy left. 

 

    “You didn’t tell me you were a Mortalitasi, Dorian. Lovely trick.” Vivienne didn't sound at all impressed. She helped him up and guided him towards Krem. It didn’t look very good. His bad leg had shattered, sluggishly spurting blood. Chunks of red lyrium that still had pieces of his flesh attached were all that were left. 

 

    Dorian didn’t know much about first aid, but he knew enough. He tore a strip off the bottom of his shirt, making it as long as he could. It took a bit more work to slide it up what was left of Krem’s leg, until he tried to tighten it. The flesh there was still mostly solid, red lyrium, and he didn’t want to rip the tourniquet. He moved it up higher, and tried again. 

 

    “It’s funny,” Krem said as he was turning pale from blood loss. The lyrium in his eyes seemed to glow more. “This isn’t how I imagined your hands there.” There was a smile on his face, and Dorian couldn’t help but smile. 

 

    “Not for me either.” His hands were bloody, and he wiped them off as best as he could before cradling Krem’s face in his hands. He kissed Krem, softly, and then more when Krem reached up to wrap his fingers in Dorian’s hair. An awkward silence fell over the rest of the group, and he could hear them shuffling away. 

 

    “You know you’re going to have to leave me here,” Krem said when they separated. Dorian felt stricken. “You have to go back in time and make sure that this never happens, and you can’t do that if you have to carry me with you.” 

 

    “I know,” Dorian replied. “I didn’t want to leave you without any good memories of me.” 

 

    “That’s silly. I have nothing but good memories of you. It’s what got me through the past year. I knew you would come for me eventually, all I had to do was be patient and endure.” Krem kissed him again, sliding his tongue inside Dorian’s mouth. Dorian leaned into Krem when Krem pulled away, and Krem gently pushed him. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but you need to go find Alexius. Make this year like it never happened and everything I suffered will be worth it.” 

 

    “Alright,” Dorian said, and moved to help Krem up. “But let’s at least get you as comfortable as we can before we go. 

 

    “I can’t really be comfortable any more, Dorian. The red lyrium hurts, and this world won’t exist for much longer if you do your job right.” Krem leaned back, pillowing his arms behind his head. “Go, and do good. I know you can.” Dorian sighed, and stood up. Krem was still smiling as he turned around, blood, crushed leg and all. How could anyone be willing to encourage him through that much pain?  

 

   “Alright,” Dorian said as he caught up with everyone else. “Krem can’t walk, and he told us to leave him there.” He looked over at Krem, grimacing now that he wasn’t expecting Dorian to look back. Such a stalwart friend to look after him, and here he was leaving him behind. This level of devotion was clearly not something he deserved. “We’ve got all of the pieces. Let’s go find Alexius, and get the amulet back.” 

 

    “Alright.” It surprised him not at all to see Leliana ready to move on before anyone else. Functional to the last, at least in this world. “Let’s go, the great hall is this way.” She led on, and because they’d already killed everyone here, it didn’t take very long. Part of him wondered what would happen to those lives if they undid everything that happened, until he got a headache and gave up. It didn’t take him long to slide the bits of red lyrium into the lock, and the door swung open. 

 

    Alexius was standing there, next to a hunched over creature, with dark circles on his eyes. His red hood looked sad, and he looked utterly distressed to see them. Miraculously, this room of the house was unaffected by rifts and damage. It was still mostly intact, despite the fact that it was filthy. Clearly the servants weren’t allowed in here. 

 

    “I always knew you would arrive one day.” Alexius sounded defeated. “When Dorian countered the rift, I knew it wouldn’t unmake you.” The sorrow in Alexius’ voice almost made Dorian feel pity until he remembered the breach overtaking the sky, Krem’s shattered leg, and the torture Leliana suffered. 

 

    “Was all of this really worth it?” Dorian couldn’t hide either the hurt or the anger in his voice. 

 

    “It doesn’t matter. All we can do is wait for the end.” Alexius sounded more sorrowful the longer he talked. This wasn’t the man he’d known, who’d go down fighting if he was going to go down at all. 

 

    “What do you mean, what’s ending?” Kelasi asked. Which was a better question than he had. Where was the mentor who looked at him and saw someone who had potential? Where was Felix in all of this? 

 

    “All I fought for, all I’ve betrayed. And what have I wrought? Death, and ruin.” There was none of the proud man who argued and fought for his difficult charges. Dorian hadn’t been the first Alexius had mentored, and until Felix had gotten sick, Dorian figured he wouldn’t be the last either. 

 

    Leliana’s silent footsteps served her well as she wrapped her arms around the neck of the pathetic creature Dorian hadn’t noticed until now. He was hunched, even as Leliana tried to force him up, dark circles somehow making a void below his eyes. 

 

    “Don’t hurt him!” Alexius begged. Dorian had only heard him use that tone of voice one other time. It was the first time he saw Felix after the attack, and he was begging the Maker for the life of his boy. 

 

    “That’s Felix? Maker, Alexius, what have you done?” Felix looked tired and ill back in Redcliffe, but he was obviously still himself. He had priorities, and cared. This Felix twitched and struggled, longing to follow the whispers even with a knife in his throat. There were worse things than dying, and he was looking at one of them. 

 

    “Please, he would have died.” Alexius looked at Dorian, begging for forgiveness. He’d been one of the few people who loved Felix as much as Alexius did, a younger brother who cared about him and the things he liked. Alexius looked at him, expecting Dorian’s priorities to be the same as his, to preserve his son at all costs. This wasn’t his son anymore, wasn’t Dorian’s brother. 

 

    “Hand me the amulet,” Kelasi interjected, her voice calm. Her turn to shoot pleading looks, this time at Leliana. Alexius managed to tear his attention away from Dorian, eyes flitting between the knife at Felix’s throat and Kelasi. 

 

     “I’ll do anything, give you whatever you want, please don’t hurt him.” Alexius was begging, a hand reaching towards Felix. The amulet was in his other hand, pushing it towards Kelasi. Dorian didn’t know much about the Leliana in this world, but he knew enough to know that Alexius said the wrong things. 

 

    “I want the world back,” Leliana yelled as she spat at him. A motion of her hand, and the creature that used to be Felix toppled to the floor. Dorian could only hope that Felix’s soul found peace, wherever he was going. Alexius put the amulet around his neck, and Dorian could feel the power being drawn to him. 

 

    “I gave the world for Felix, I will not let you go. The Elder One will always come, and I will have the thorn in his side and the murderer of my son to lay at his feet.” A sharp smell built up with the power Alexius drew in, until a rift spread through the middle of the room with a crack. Demons came through, and Alexius blinked out of the way. 

 

    Everyone was tired, and Krem wasn’t there to help keep everyone off Kelasi and Vivienne. The battle became messy very quickly, and it was all Dorian could do to keep barriers up and as many demons frozen as he could. When the rift churned to spit out a second round of demons, he kept his dispels as tight as he could. Blinding Cassandra or Vivienne at this point could get them all killed. 

 

    They fought the rift down, Kelasi sealing it. Alexius spent his time blinking around the room, sometimes rewinding them when it was convenient. He was hard to track, and even Cassandra couldn’t get him to stop blinking. It made Dorian sick, because this amount of power had to come from a supply of blood he had somewhere. Eventually, Dorian managed to time a dispel well enough to cast it on Alexius, allowing everyone to catch up and keep him pinned down. It didn’t feel real until Dorian was pulling the amulet off of his body. 

 

    “He wanted to die, didn’t he?” Dorian asked, sighing. Kelasi didn’t reply, letting him find his words. “He lost Felix a long time ago, and didn’t even notice.” Dorian felt a smile forming on his face, of memories he didn’t quite want to remember yet. “Oh Alexius, he was the standard to which I compared all other men.” 

 

     “I know you cared for him,” Kelasi eventually replied. He was staring at the amulet, trying to make himself stand up. “This must be hard for you.” 

 

    “Yes. I’ll have to worry about that when we’re in a better position. Give me about an hour and I should be able to figure out exactly how the  amulet works and get us back to our own time.” He was already probing the amulet with his magic, seeing if he could learn anything about the mechanism. Heavy footsteps sounded from outside the door. 

 

    “I don’t think you’re going to have an hour,” Leliana told him. Cassandra moved to stand in front of the door, Vivienne not too far behind. 

 

    “Thankfully, this amulet looks very similar to the one from when he and I were working together,” Dorian told them, starting to power it up.  

 

    “We’ll do whatever it takes to keep them at bay,” Vivienne told them. She looked back, red lyrium crystal growing out of her shoulder, and eyes that were starting to glow red as she drew on the power of the lyrium. Somehow she still managed to look graceful as the door with the lyrium lock shut behind her.  

 

    “Make it count,” Kelasi told Dorian as they moved towards the back of the room. She looked upset at the idea of leaving her companions to die for them, and he didn’t blame her. Leliana stood in front of the door as they heard screams of agony, which eventually stopped. The loud noises started for the door. 

 

    “You have as much time as I have arrows.” There was fierce determination on her face, and as the door started to crumble, Kelasi moved to support her, bow in hand. 

 

    “You move, and we all die,” he told her, and she stayed. She stayed, but it cost her to hear Leliana’s final scream before they popped back into the throne room of Redcliffe castle. 

 

    “You’ll have to do better than that,” Dorian said to Alexius’ smug face. The way his expression fell almost made it worth having to leave Krem behind. He flinched. That was nowhere near true. He’d forever remember Krem’s face contorted in pain as Dorian walked away. 

 

     “What, more afraid when you don’t have an Elder One behind you?” Kelasi’s bravado seemed as sincere as his, but they were here, and so were Krem, Cassandra, and Vivienne. Alexius crumpled further. 

 

    “Felix.” He stared at the floor, face falling the longer they stood there staring at him. 

 

    “It’s going to be alright, father.” Felix rested a hand on Alexius’ shoulder. 

 

     “You’ll die,” Alexius replied. Dorian wanted to feel pity, but all he could think about was the breach, covering the entire sky. 

 

    “Everyone dies,” Felix said, and he nodded at Dorian. With everything he’d done to help stop Alexius, Felix looked bad. The circles under his eyes were as much of a void as the creature at the other end of the portal, and his limp was more pronounced. But his eyes were clear, and there was a smile on his face. He’d chosen helping over his health, and Dorian couldn’t blame him. This was a better way for him to go than eventually giving in to the calling of the darkspawn. 

 

    Armored knights stormed into the throne room, wearing Redcliffe armor. They spread out in a parade formation, coming to attention. The door opened again to King Alistair and Queen Anora, looked displeased. Fiona noticed, and attempted to hide behind Cassandra. Cassandra noticed, and stood out of the way, glaring at Fiona. 

 

    “When we offered you and all of the mages sanctuary at Redcliffe, it didn’t mean that we were allowing you to remove the Arl from his home or any of the people from these lands. Seeing as you’ve abused our hospitality, you’re going to need to leave.” The longer Anora talked the more afraid Fiona looked. 

 

    “But we are still in need of protection,” Fiona protested. Dorian had to give her credit, she was willing to fight for her people to be safe, even in the face of kings and queens. He frowned. That was puzzling. Even if Alexius had gotten to her right after the breach opened, why would she be so willing to give up the freedom of the mages under her care? 

 

    “Perhaps you should have thought of that before you kicked our people out of town,” Alistair replied. Kelasi stepped forward, ready to take over from there. 

 

    “I originally came to Redcliffe to request the aid of the mages. You’re welcome within the Inquisition.” Her tone was even and face polite, and she’d managed to pick the perfect moment to make her case. He couldn’t tell if she’d been listening more to Leliana or to Josephine, but either way, she was definitely listening. 

 

    “I understand we’ll need to accept your offer, because we don’t have much in the way of choices, but what role will you have us play in the Inquisition?” Fiona asked. Personally, Dorian thought that whatever the Inquisition offered it would be better than indentured servitude to Alexius and the rest of the Magisterium. Seeing as he didn’t want glared at by either Cassandra or Kelasi, he decided to keep those thoughts to himself. Kelasi turned to each one in turn, asking their opinions. 

 

    “Personally, I think all of the mages have proven that they can’t be trusted to take care of themselves. I’d feel much more comfortable with them having a limited role in the Inquisition.” Poised, which he expected from Vivienne, and blunt, which he did not. 

 

    “I think their magic is dangerous, and they need to be in a place where they can be watched. I’m all for mages having more freedoms, but these mages have already proven what they will do with theirs.” Not a surprising thought from Cassandra. Then she looked at him, and he had no idea what to say. 

 

    “Personally, I think the way that mages are treated is part of what got us into this mess in the first place. I’m not suggesting that you leave them unwatched, to muck up more of the world, but there has to be a better solution to keep wars like this from breaking out.” Cassandra scoffed at him, and he shrugged in reply. Kelasi contemplated, taking everything they said into account before making a decision. 

 

    “The breach threatens all of us, and we cannot be divided. The Inquisition would be happy to welcome the mages as partners and allies.” Her word was final, and everyone got ready to regroup at Haven. 

 

**. . .**

 

    Dorian constantly found himself reaching out for Krem on the road to Haven, trying to convince himself that Krem was perfectly fine. It made for a good excuse to talk about whether they wanted to stay if the Inquisition would have them, at least, even if he felt self conscious about how much time he wanted with Krem. His Krem, one who was alive, whole, and very much not turning into red lyrium. 

 

    Remembering the kisses helped neither his urges or his cock, and made it difficult to share their tent. It was worth it, all the same, because he could be around Krem and make sure he was safe. Krem made it easy to worry that he would sacrifice his health for Dorian, and Dorian was worried that he couldn’t be trusted with something so precious. Distance made him wake up with nightmares, closeness woke him up with a hard cock. Not that Krem ever minded. He would hold Dorian, rubbing his back until he could go back to sleep, pretending not to notice the hard cock jabbing him. 

 

    It was strange, such casual intimacy. In Tevinter, anything like cuddling was frowned upon. It was thought to be silly, and something that men who loved other men didn’t need. Relationships were about sex, gratification, and mating, before they were about understanding one another’s needs. He wasn’t even giving Krem sex, and Krem didn’t care. If Dorian needed it and Krem could provide it, he would. Including staying with the Inquisition. Neither he nor Krem really wanted to, because Tevinter was still home. The Inquisition just felt like the place they needed to be, to clean up the mess Alexius and others had made of the world. 

 

    They stayed separate during the day, not touching. Dorian missed it, aching for a physical reminder that would reassure him Krem was just fine. It was partly because he didn’t want the others to get any ideas, and partly that he was used to hiding himself. That was an odd thought. No one had commented on the two of them sharing a room in the entire time they’d been in Redcliffe. 

 

    Dorian was surprised at how glad he was to see Haven at the end of the journey, considering how little time he’d spent there. He was also sad, considering that he would have less of an excuse to sleep next to Krem. There were enough buildings that they wouldn’t be stuck sharing a tent, and while he would love nothing more than to continue sharing a room with Krem, he wasn’t willing to ask someone to make it happen. 

 

    Right now, he lingered outside the Chantry, waiting for an argument about treating the mages as allies as recruits instead of conscripts to end, before talking to Kelasi. It was circular, with predictable results. Josephine wanted to make sure she had the best way to sell what they were doing, Cullen wanted to obey the law as much as he could, and Leliana wanted information and resources and didn’t care where they came from. Eventually, they all headed back to complete their tasks and Dorian could talk to Kelasi. 

 

    “I like the idea of the probation you suggested. It’s very pragmatic, just when I was getting into the circular arguments.” Dorian leaned against the wall, glad that he could be back to having a roof over his head. 

 

    “Thank you, it seems to have calmed everyone down. I don’t know why Cullen objects to us getting the lyrium from more than one source. The Chantry isn’t exactly thrilled with us, and we’re going to need all of the help we can get.” Kelasi had a headache, not that he could blame her. He would too if he had to juggle the needs of this many people. 

 

    “Do you think we’ll be ready to close the breach soon?” Dorian asked her. 

 

    “I don’t know, I thought I’d let the troops take care of it. Maybe take a nap, go for a walk.” There was a smile on her face, and it was good to see. 

 

    “I’ve learned something about myself, and it’s that I enjoy the South. It’s so rustic and charming, I adore it to little pieces.” And it would be a safe place for him to hide from his father. Not that he wanted to tell her that he was such an unbearable freak that he needed to hide from his father. “I’m thinking I’d like to stay on, and help you, if you’ll have me.” Krem materialized at his shoulder. 

 

    “I think you mean us, Dorian,” Krem said with a smile. The look on his face radiated so much love, and Dorian couldn’t help but smile back. 

 

    “I’m surprised, most people from Tevinter don’t think very highly of Ferelden.” She was appraising him, as if she could see what he brought and what he would need from the Inquisition. 

 

    “Not all people from Tevinter feel like the Venatori do. Many of us have been fighting for years to let its better nature shine through.” Not that her line of thought was uncommon. Many Magisters spread that idea around, to make it harder to pass progressive laws. 

 

    “In that case, I know both of you will help the Inquisition, and we would be glad to have you.” Kelasi smiled at both of them, enjoying the way that they looked at each other. Dorian couldn’t help but think that she was getting the wrong impression. Then again, considering the display between he and the Krem in the other time, he couldn’t fault her. “Talk to the quartermaster, and he’ll make sure that the two of you get a room together. It’s a tight squeeze with everyone here, but we try to make sure that everyone is out of the cold at least for the night.” With that, she headed off to take care of Maker knew what. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aren't you all lucky, another update, another 9k chapter! Maybe my writing endurance is improving. I've been writing this fic for a year now, and have managed to not end up posting late in that whole thing, even through health issues and dog drama and family drama. It's been a pretty good year for writing, even if it hasn't been good for much else <3\. 
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me. Your comments mean the world to me, and I appreciate each and every one of them. We'll see how long this story takes, and I'm looking forward to the next year of posts.

    “So we’ll be moving to close the breach soon then?” Dorian asked Kelasi. He was itching to do something about it, the memories of the sky turning green haunting him. They’d been at Haven for two days, and he’d finally gotten a moment to talk to her. 

 

    “No,” she said, managing to sound as if it were both necessary and torturous to have to wait. “We’re gathering up as much lyrium as we can, from underground and legitimate sources. There’s no way to know how much power we need before we get up there, and I don’t want anyone collapsing or trying to rely on blood to do what needs doing.” Kelasi smiled up at Dorian. “I’ve been working on that myself, it’s why you haven’t seen much of Varric or Vivienne.” 

 

    “I had wondered about that. There seems to be so much to do here, and very little of it is within my considerable abilities.” He was going a bit mad, because of course Krem had found Cullen and was training recruits as best as he knew how. Dorian spent most of his time alone, although there were more books to keep him company.

 

    “Yes. That’s partially my fault. I’ve been encouraging everyone to let you rest. I figured after the events at Redcliffe you would need it.” There was nothing but sympathy in her voice, and it still managed to sound patronizing. 

 

    “Aren’t you in need of rest yourself?” Dorian tried not to sound bitter, but it was difficult considering the bags under her eyes. He was not some delicate creature to be handled with kid gloves. He’d proven that getting here. She shot him a bleak look, complete with tired smile. 

 

    “I’m the only person who can close the rifts. I don’t get to rest until they’re all sealed. Not to mention, I’m one of the few people who has connections to the Carta and lyrium smuggling, and Maker only knows they aren’t willing to work with anyone else.” She sighed. “I wanted to give you and Krem time to be together, even if he seemed to have other plans.” 

 

    “I appreciate that, I do. I just want to be treated as anyone else. There’s work I can do, even if it isn’t accompanying you to talk to smugglers. I’ve spent more than a few days sleeping, and now that I’m rested, the boredom is starting to get to me.” He shifted foot to foot, longing for Krem. It still made him anxious to have his soldier out of his sight for too long, and the lack of things to occupy his mind made it worse. 

 

    “Talk to Cullen, or Josephine. They’ll have a better idea of what needs doing.” An Inquisition scout bowed at Kelasi, politely offering a small piece of paper. There was more she wanted to say, but she frowned and looked at it. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to take care of something.” There was a stubborn look in her eyes, and he almost felt sorry for the person who sent the message. 

 

    Cullen or Josephine first? That probably depended on whether he wanted to play the diplomat or the war mage. He knew more about being a diplomat, certainly. Impossible to grow up in his house and not pick up certain things. There just didn’t seem to be much that an estranged heir of the house could offer. Working with Cullen could give him a chance to work on the Mortalitasi skills he found himself using in the time he hoped never happened. It would also probably hurt quite a bit, and he didn’t know if he was up for that. 

 

    Either sounded better than buying more books from the merchant, or staring at the walls of his room and missing Krem. His heart still ached when he thought about leaving Krem behind, and the way kissing him felt. Being around him was torturous, because Dorian wanted nothing more than kisses and wherever kisses led, but being without him was worse. He would wake up drenched in sweat, and the only thing that could get him to go back to sleep was Krem’s quiet breathing. 

 

    But maybe… Dorian wandered into the Chantry, finding Vivienne in the spot where she usually lurked. She read books there, sometimes. She had one tome open, burned spots exposed as she sighed over it. There were supplies that he recognized from some of the book shops in Minrathous, as well as the archives that held the oldest records. 

 

    “What can I do for you, darling?” Vivienne asked him without turning. He stared at the tools she was using, slightly entranced. She turned when he didn’t reply, offering one of her diplomatic smiles. “I do restoration work for the Circle’s library. It’s not up to my usual standards here, but of course the Templars are destroying books left and right, as if we needed more to worry about.” She straightened, and he looked more closely at what she was doing. 

 

    “Is there a library here?” He couldn’t help but bounce a little bit. Libraries were the best, and he didn’t need to worry about a gold budget to read. Maybe they would even have enough texts for him to be helpful as a researcher. It had gotten him this far. 

 

    “If you’re being generous, you could call it that. Kelasi and I have been gathering as many books as we can, but right now they’re all in a pile downstairs. I’ve been in a hurry to save as many of the books as I can, so I haven’t gotten a chance to do much organizing.” Vivienne turned back to her book, pressing the pages back together. She used a needle and thread to resew the pages, following holes left by a punch tool next to her. 

 

    “Would you mind if I took a look? I feel useless dithering around here, and there’s more than enough mages to take care of any work that comes up,” Dorian asked, a smile on his face. Organizing books was something he could do. He could almost hear the smile in her voice when she replied. 

 

     “That would be lovely. There’s not much there, but what we have is a mess. When you leave my alcove, take the door on the left. The stairs are well lit, but be careful not to hit your head or your staff on the wall sconce. Head to the right, and keep walking until you get to the first cell door on your left. It’s dreary, but it’s dry, the cells were the only bit of this place that had a ceiling.” She didn’t motion or anything, just gave directions. Had she thought about this before? Was she expecting him to come see her? He just shook his head, following her directions. 

 

    He managed to hit his head on the sconce, grateful that nothing flew out of it and onto the straw they were using for insulation. Shivering made him understand why they were using it, at least. Drips on his head made him look up, to find grating that let him look out at the sky. He kept going, managing to avoid the next sconce, only to turn back and hit it as he noticed the barred door he was looking for. It swung open, the hinges creaking mightily. His arms shook slightly, the door took a lot to open. 

 

    No more drips hit his shoulders, and he looked up. The ceiling here had beautiful stonework for a cell. The walls were lined with shelves, books crammed everywhere they would fit.There were three desks, one holding scrolls and lose paper, one skulls, and another a small laptop, with a quill on the upper portion. 

 

     There were books spilling onto the floor, and those bothered him, but their covers could protect them somewhat. The scrolls and loose paper almost made him cry out. Someone had lit a candle and left it on building plans for Haven, along with a chest that was full of slightly used candles and sealed bottles of wine. An odd room. Did someone come down here to drink and contemplate trashing history and literature? Now to put it in order. 

 

    It was the work of a moment to gather everything off the floor. It took a few more minutes to relocate the wine in the chest, and to fill it with scrolls. The laptop held everything he needed in order to label everything neatly, and everything could go in some sort of order. Some of the loose paper belonged to books, and he tucked those into desk drawers, reminding himself to tell Vivienne about it later. 

 

    Evicting all of the bottles and other clutter from the shelves took slightly longer, but he eventually made enough room to fit all of the books. Especially when he set them up with their spines out, instead of leaving them to slouch however they liked. Who thought of this, honestly?

 

    With everything out of danger, he contemplated the books themselves. Most of them were titles he expected, volumes of Chantry history, and the first Inquisition. Those books were so old, it was a wonder that they left them here, even if this roof didn’t leak. There were some on Templars, a large section of the volumes Vivienne was preserving, and then there was an entire section of books written by the cult that lived here before the Inquisition did. 

 

    Most of them were blood stained, some tracking the genealogies of the Andraste reborn in dragon form they worshipped. Some tracked the travelers offered as food or sacrifices to Andraste’s reproduction. The most exhaustive volumes were on the traps they tried to breach, set to guard the path to the Ashes. How many people were they willing to kill in order to corrupt something that could be a force for healing for so many? 

 

    Probably about as many as the Elder One, now that he thought about it. The Ashes were gone, in their place; a breach and a group of people struggling to find answers. How strange that the same group of people had created something that stood the test of time, and bridged countries of differing beliefs. Everyone knew the Chant, turned to the Chantry in times of crisis, and what were they doing now? 

 

    Equivocating, and condemning the only people who seemed to be helping. He believed in the Maker, and Andraste. But he didn’t believe in an institution that cared less about feeding and clothing people than stopping the people who did. Now he was in a place to do something about those beliefs, and didn’t that feel better compared to the politics of Minrathous. Even if all he did was organize books and preserve history. 

 

    His stomach growled, and he realized he’d been at this for several hours. When he walked into the hall, the sun was shining through the grate at a much different angle. They’d only been here for a few days, but maybe his stomach remembered the time for his dinner shift at the inn. That thought made him walk a little faster, nearly bolting out of the Chantry. Krem had saved their usual spot together, a plate already made up. 

 

    “I was just about to ask after you,” Krem told him as he settled in. “But here you are.” The inn was small enough that they were pressed in close, even with different shifts. Krem casually gave his hand a squeeze, the same way he always did when Dorian looked nervous. It usually soothed him but, this time it did the opposite. 

 

    They were in the open, and how would everyone here react? Part of him understood that everyone here knew that he and Krem shared a room, shared a bed, but there was knowing, and there was seeing. No one noticed. That wasn’t entirely true, he supposed. People were making eye contact with him, and smiling. No one commented, or told him that he couldn’t expect to get heirs that way. It was just him, and Krem, holding hands, in the middle of an inn. 

 

    Everyone here figured it was more than just sex, and somehow it didn’t matter. How had he found a place like this? It broke his heart to give Krem’s hand a squeeze, smile, and let go. Whatever life was like here, he would still go back to Tevinter, marry Caidy, and eventually end up with heirs. Until then, though, he’d enjoy whatever he could. 

 

**. . .**

 

    Dorian spent the next day in the cell. The skulls were still there, ominously watching him work in the corner as he attempted to organize the works. It didn’t go very well, because everything was so scattered. How had they managed to find some of these texts? Goosebumps wandered over his arms. Were some of these left from by the people who originally built the temple? It horrified him to know that he didn’t have access to enough lyrium to make proper wards for them, the way the libraries in Tevinter did. 

 

    Instead, he spent most of his time recopying those texts, saving as much as he could and using the gloves he hated so to handle them. A jolt hit him when he was reading about Shartan, Andraste’s elven companion. A vivid reminder of one more thing Tevinter managed to ruin. So often the villain of the story, in a quest for greater magical power. When he felt the hand on his shoulder, he turned, magic gathered, releasing it back into the fade when he saw who set a hand on his shoulder. It was Cullen. Dorian wasn’t aware that he left the field, unless it was an emergency. 

 

    “Dorian.” A cool wash of power flowed off Dorian. Cullen was used to startled mages. “I wanted to ask for your help in training the mages. I can only do so much, and most of them didn’t get a chance to learn how to work as a group before the Circle dissolved.” The fur ruff on his armor wafted slightly in the breeze. It looked warm, compared to him freezing without so much as a proper coat. 

 

    “I’ll see what I can do. I don’t know that there’s much of a guide for providing power to someone who can seal an enormous green hole in the sky.” Dorian stood up, realizing how stiff he was in the cold of the cell. The candles provided a little heat for him, but the hole in the ceiling of the next room negated that.

 

    “Well, I know you’ve at least got more of an advantage than me. I have no idea how to teach mages their craft, and Vivienne told me that she would be of more use restoring books and playing politics.” Cullen’s hand rested on the pommel of his sword, stance wide. It looked very similar to how Krem stood. Interesting what did and didn’t transcend countries. 

 

    “I suppose I did apply for a teaching position at the Circle.” This idea didn’t thrill him, nor did having to tuck his still unsorted books back in the bookshelf. Giant green hole in the sky would win over his love of books. Even if it was closer than he wanted to admit. Dorian could help but smile as Cullen hit his head on the sconce. He swore, bumped his head into the doorway, and kept walking.   

 

    “Are you alright?” Dorian asked as he tried to hide a smile. 

 

    “Yes. You’d think that if I’ve managed to not die in the war in Kirkland, I could manage not to hit my head on everything.” He looked sheepish, and Dorian thought it was a good look. 

 

    “I know in Tevinter teaching mages to work together in groups is one of the earliest things. It’s necessary to share power to create some of the larger workings that keep the city going. Is it very different here?” They walked out of the Chantry, Cullen taking the path to the right and waving at the supply master. Dorian followed, wondering why he looked sheepish again. 

 

    “It’s actually not taught at all at most Circles. It might have been in the past but the Templars were afraid of the mages combining power and overthrowing them.” Cullen looked at Dorian out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge how he’d react. 

 

    “Ah. So we’ll be starting from scratch then.” Dorian had to think back fairly far to remember his lessons. Passing power around was easy enough to do, even if very few people did it outside of circle exercises and required workings. No sense weakening yourself for someone else’s gain. 

 

    If he remembered correctly, it started with fire. Fire was one of the first things a mage learned, and even young ones could usually summon it. Passing it hand to hand was slightly trickier, until people realized it wouldn’t burn them if they gripped it with their own power. Do that enough times, and you could get a sense for the power of another person, and grip it without the help of fire. 

 

    It didn’t go as smoothly as that when he taught this group. Not everyone knew how to summon fire, so he took time to teach them that. About half of the mages found the exercise easy, and the other half were terrified of hurting others with their power. The skittish ones would clamp down, blocking out demons, but also cutting themselves off from their own magic. 

 

    He individually talked to them, explaining what he did to block out demons without losing power. Demons had to come in with permission, or break in by force, and the human will was stronger than most of the Fereldens had been taught. No wonder they wanted to get out of their circles. Magic could be beautiful, and most of these mages didn’t know it yet. 

 

    To start, he paired mages familiar with fire and not being burned by it with those who were afraid of hurting others. The calm mages would call fire first, and pass it to the mages who were afraid, and then the afraid mages could pass it back once they realized that the fire didn’t hurt. It grew more comfortable to everyone, and he started gradually folding the groups in together. Then they added more power, the fire growing into a solid ring from hand to hand, until the fire went out and pure power remained. 

 

    It shone, and he had them point it at him as if he was Kelasi. Everything was light, and purity, and somehow this was magic without demons. Beautiful, and he wished he could do something healing with it. It was born of struggle, learning, fear, but most of all progress. Maybe all of their problems weren’t insurmountable. Maybe the mages and the templars could find peace, and the world could be put back together. 

 

    Dorian let the power seep into the earth as it faded from the mages. Everyone looked tired and hungry, and he told them to wait before he headed to the inn. Josephine told the cook to not follow the usual schedule, and the mages could eat up after all that magic. It was a good thing too, with all of the food they put away. It made him sad to eat without Krem, without the reassuring squeeze that his friend was alive and whole. He chatted with the mages, but something felt missing, until he felt a familiar body slide in next to him on the bench and squeeze his hand. 

 

     “I ran into Cullen, who told me that you all were eating now and I could join you if I wanted. The recruits were distracted watching the display of magic and didn’t get much done anyway.” There was a smile on Krem’s face that made Dorian melt, and he couldn’t help but reach out and touch his cheek. Krem leaned into the touch, and Dorian felt guilty. He shouldn’t take advantage of his friend this way. 

 

**. . .**

 

    Kelasi approached him the next day as he was working in the little library. He’d managed to sort out most of the books, bundling the oldest into a chest. The quartermaster supplied him with a long sheet of waxed canvas that the carpenter nailed in place to better protect his treasure.

 

    “Hello there! I was looking for you and found Krem, he told me that I could usually find you here.” Kelasi had a smile on her face and he couldn’t help but smile back. Of course Krem would know where he was. 

 

    “I spend most of my time here because it’s quiet. I can pretend that I don’t live in a village with far too many troops and people crammed into a small space. Besides, books have always been my true love.” Books never demanded anything of him, whether that was to change himself or to get married. Sometimes books made him want to change himself, but that was very different. 

 

    “Alexius arrived yesterday, with an Inquisition caravan from Redcliffe. We’ve kept his location a secret to protect him, but I was wondering if you’d been to see him.” There was concern in her voice. She cared about him, and the people that mattered to him. What an odd feeling. 

 

    “I have. Leliana told me where to find him. He looked despondent and broken, nothing like the man I knew.” Dorian sighed. Alexius had so much vitality to him, and all of that was gone now. Part of him was glad that he wouldn’t have any strong feelings for Caidy. Less feelings meant less to lose, and fewer things that would make him want to give his power to help away. It made him remember the alternate time, and leaving Krem behind. Any lingering guilt he had faded. Some things were more important. 

 

    “I can imagine,” she replied. “He saw potential in you, and nurtured a gift. There was so little of the man you knew left that he couldn’t nurture any more.” He looked at Kelasi, surprise on his face. She saw so many things, could put words to things he felt. It would never stop being strange that he came halfway across the world to find people who understood him. She tilted her head, waiting for him to continue his thought. 

 

    “I suppose the Inquisition will have to judge him at some point, for all of the things he’s done.” Dorian stared into one of the candles, his thoughts darting about like the flame. “I wonder if they’ll grant him mercy. He doesn’t deserve it, but for Felix’s sake, I hope there’s something left of the man I once knew.” 

 

    “Me too,” she replied with a warmth he believed. “I’m sorry that Tevinter is losing Alexius. From the stories, it sounds like he did a lot of good there.” 

 

    “He did. He believed that Tevinter belonged to the people. He wanted to honor the history we have. You can walk down city blocks and not see a building built in this age, read accounts of what life was like before Andraste.” He was excited enough to stand up and gesture with his hands. “We have the potential to do so much, and I wish we would. Instead, it’s people working on their own agendas. There are people who believe like Alexius did and I do, and I want to find more of them.” He smiled, thinking about what he could do for his home. 

 

    “With as much as you love it, I’m surprised you don’t want to be there more.” It was a simple sentence from Kelasi, but it hit him hard. 

 

    “My family and I don’t get on. I decided that who I am is more important to me than politics. They disagree, so I stay away. It’s better for everyone that way.” His voice sounded sharper than he wanted it to. Everyone was scared of angry mages and he tried to be aware of that. 

 

    “Krem?” She asked him, her voice gentle. She wasn’t afraid of him like this. Were mages different here, or was she different? Impossible to say. 

 

    “That’s part of it, certainly.” Not the whole part, and not quite the right truth, but close enough. Some part of him was pleased that everyone assumed they were together, the other felt small and petty. It wasn’t fair to Krem. He deserved to move on with his life and find love. Proper love, with a life shared together. 

 

    “I’ve never entirely understood that, to be honest. But maybe it’s being a surface dwarf or part of the carta. You love who you love, and that shouldn’t make a difference to what you can accomplish, or whether your family loves you in return.” Kelasi was relaxed, though there was a slight edge to her voice. 

 

    “It’s mostly that in Tevinter, mages are bred like horses. Magic runs strongly in veins, and even though my parents hated each other, they got married. Two men can’t have heirs to make magic stronger, so what good are they.” Some of the fire returned to his voice. He couldn’t help it, the idea of being sentenced to a life with someone he hated made him resent everything about Tevinter. Often including the history he wanted to respect and protect. Kelasi raised her eyebrows. 

 

    “I’ve heard that dwarves in Orzammar keep track of their bloodlines very closely. They have castes, and what caste you have depends on the caste of your same sex birth parent. It’s silly. Yes, our parents can shape us, but sometimes they shape us by making us into people unlike them.” She looked almost wistful, and he wondered about her parents. “I am sad that Tevinter doesn’t have you right now, when it needs to with all of the forces at work, but I am grateful for your help. I don’t think things would have gone as well if you weren’t with me in Alexius’ future.” 

 

    “Thank you, it’s always nice to be appreciated.” He smiled at her in a way that would look like flirting to anyone else. She gave him a similar smile back. 

 

    “Sure. I might also be saying that and keeping you around for your looks.” She winked at him. How delightful, someone who found flirting as much fun as he did. “I have to go talk to Cullen. Let me know if there’s anything you need to make your work down here easier.” Before he could even reply, she was out the door. Back to his books for him. 

 

**. . .**

 

     All of the preparation was done, and they were ready to seal the breach. They headed up the mountain to the shrine, the mages each carrying a staff and a backpack with a large lyrium potion. Cassandra led the way, Solas and Kelasi behind her. He brought up the rear, encouraging the older mages who weren’t used to this much physical activity. 

 

    Seeing the breach up close made him nauseous. He couldn’t help but see it spreading over the sky, consuming everything in its path and making way for demons to take over the physical world. They were here to stop it, and seeing as he was the person training the mages, he needed to get that started. 

 

    “Alright everyone. Just like we practiced. Focus your will past the herald, and let her draw from you.” Dorian knelt, his jar of lyrium in one hand and his staff planted in the ground with the other. Solas echoed his posture, the other mages following suit, building a chain of power. Kelasi touched it, glowing, and threw her mark into the breach. She pulled, taking hold of their power. When she pulled her hand from the rift, she pulled their power with it, and they cried out. How could she hold so much, and not burn? 

 

    But it was done. The breach sealed, and a cheer went out from the mages. The lyrium potions revived them enough to get down the mountain. There was a party scheduled in their honor later, but for now, all of them wanted food and bed. Or maybe bed and then food. Hard to say, really, whether it was preferable to feel better now or have more room for the feast the cooks had been working on all day. He was getting silly, and should probably sleep. Krem greeted him at the gates, and he couldn’t help but smile. 

 

    “Leliana told me when to expect you.” Krem offered Dorian a roll, which he took gratefully and started eating. When Dorian didn’t move, Krem gently guided him by the elbow. “Did you seal the breach?” Dorian nodded, unwilling to stop eating his roll long enough to answer. “That’s good. Why don’t you get some rest, and then you’ll wake up in time for the party later.” Dorian nodded again, eating the last bite of his roll when they hit their room. Krem tucked him in and kissed him on the forehead. “Rest well.” He was asleep before he heard the door shut. 

 

**. . .**

 

The sounds of the party and dancing woke him up. His stomach prodded him out of bed, and he stopped at the latrine on the way over to the inn to get food. He ate, pie and stew and meat. How long had the hunters worked to give them such a bounty? It was worth it as he tore into the meat. Krem squeezed his shoulder, and sat down next to him with a slice of pie. Was he becoming as omniscient as Leliana? 

 

    “I’ve already stuffed myself silly, but I figured I could make room for pie and keep you company. There’s dancing going on outside, after.” Krem blushed when Dorian didn’t respond. “If you want, I mean. It doesn’t even have to be with me.” 

 

    “No, it sounds wonderful.” Dorian could barely talk with all of the food he was eating. He hadn’t felt this awful since he first started working with magic. “Though I might be too full to dance after I eat all of this.” Krem looked so immediately crestfallen Dorian regretted joking. “I’ll do it, it’s alright.” He smiled at Krem, unsure if he was in love with the idea of dancing with Krem, or being able to dance with a man and having no one care. 

 

    They left the inn when they finished eating, and joined in the dancing. No one cared that they were two men, and he enjoyed dancing with Krem. He could pretend that they were going home to their quaint cottage, to spend the night doing rough and tumble things that made his cock twitch. It faded somewhat when he noticed Cassandra and Kelasi talking near the front of the inn. He squeezed Krem’s hand, and tried to loiter close enough to hear but not close enough to be noticed. The party was loud enough that even with his poor sneaking skills, they didn’t see him. 

 

    “Solas reports the breach is sealed. There are still rifts and questions, but it’s a victory. Word of your heroism has spread.” Their backs were turned to him, so he couldn’t see Cassandra’s face, but he could practically hear her eyebrows climbing up her face. Kelasi shifted from foot to foot in the way she did when someone paid too much attention to her. 

 

    “You know how many people were involved. Luck put me at the center.” There was a sharp edge to her voice, and it made his heart ache. Sounded like his luck. 

 

    “A strange kind of luck. I cannot tell if we need more or less.” Cassandra’s hand twitched towards her sword, the only fidget he’d seen out of her. Krem had explained it to him once. He’d been reaching for his mace and looking nervous. Dorian went to squeeze his hand, and had been gently rebuked. Impression mattered as much to soldiers as mages. “But you’re right, the alliance will need a new direction.” 

 

    Bells rang out over the party, Cullen calling an alarm. The party dissolved into busy people, moving to their stations or to grab weapons forgotten in the thrill of victory. Dorian hoped there were enough sober soldiers to defend the place. He turned to look for Krem, only to have the soldier materialize next to him, mace strapped to his hip and a shield on his arm. His other arm stretched out, offering Dorian his staff. 

 

    “I have to go with my troops. Cullen’s given all of the lieutenant’s orders and I need to make sure Haven is defended. Are you going to be alright without me?” Krem’s words came out fast and hard. His shoulders were squared off, and Dorian hoped he wouldn’t lose many people. 

 

    “That’s alright, I suspect Kelasi is going to need me in a minute.” Dorian squeezed Krem’s shoulder. “Stay safe, and I’ll do my best to do the same.” 

 

    The advisors were gathered around the gate, and Dorian could see more signs of an army marching forward. He squinted, trying to make out if any of them were carrying banners. None of them seemed to be, and he moved closer to the advisors. Sera was across from him, in her armor with her bow. Another fast responder like Krem. What had she seen that prepared her for this? She listened to the advisors talking, and he could see her lips moving as she swore. 

 

    “There’s a massive force,” Cullen barked. “One of our scouts is reporting from over the mountains.” Dorian squinted up into the hills, and could see spots of red light. Were those torches? 

 

    “Under what banner?” Josephine asked, her candle and writing surface absent. 

 

    “None,” Cullen replied, his eyebrows drawn down and his eyes tight with worry. 

 

    “None?” Josephine replied. She looked worried. Diplomats always were in war. A knock at the gates halted all conversation. 

 

    “I can’t come in unless you open.” That was one of the youngest voices he’d ever heard, although it didn’t make him less nervous. Cullen swung open the gates, to see a young man in a very large hat slitting the throat of someone carrying a war axe. A soldier in Inquisition scout armor lay on the ground, a spear poking through his side. Dorian couldn’t help but hope it wasn’t one of Krem’s. “I’m Cole. I came to warn you, to help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know.” 

 

    “What is this, what’s going on?” Kelasi stepped forward, her voice cracking slightly as she took in the dead scout. Her bow stayed on her back, so she trusted Cole, to a degree. 

 

    “The Templars come to kill you,” Cole replied. Even under the large hat, bangs dangled into his eyes. How could he see well enough to slit a throat? Cullen jumped in, his voice hard with anger. 

 

    “Templars? Is this the order’s response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?” Cullen seemed disgusted with the idea, even if he wasn’t surprised. 

 

    “The red templars went to the Elder One. You know him, he knows you. You took his magic. There.” Cole pointed, and everyone stared. A man with brown hair, skin yellowing from lyrium overuse. He wore Templar armor, although it was the color of dried blood. It glittered in a way blood couldn’t, and Dorian felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

 

    The cloud of snow the Templar kicked up settled, and a creature emerged. His ribs were the first thing Dorian noticed, holes worn in them, glowing red lyrium poking out. The arms weren’t much better, muscled in places but hollow in others, reaching farther than they ought to. Somehow he was too tall to be real, the crystals emerging from his head adding to the effect. They pulsed, and the chest moved in and out slightly. Dorian couldn’t be sure if that was wind, or if the creature somehow breathed. 

 

    “I know this man, but this Elder one…” Cullen had goosebumps. That was never a good sign. One generally hoped the man in charge of defense would feel sure of himself. 

 

    “He’s very angry that you took his mages,” Cole added. Everyone stared at him, having forgotten why he was there. Kelasi huffed out one breath, gathering herself. 

 

    “Cullen, give me a plan, anything.” She was certainly cool under fire. 

 

    “Haven is no fortress,” Cullen started quietly, and then switched to a bellow that could be heard in the middle of a fight. “If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle. Get out there and hit that force. Use everything you can. Mages! You! You have sanction to engage them. That is Samson, he will not make it easy. Inquisition! With the Herald. For your lives! For all of us!” A cheer went out, everyone at their stations and prepared to face the oncoming force. 

 

    Kelasi motioned Sera and Dorian over to join Cassandra. Sera was swearing under her breath about a world gone mad, and Dorian couldn’t disagree. Kelasi gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, winking at Dorian. 

 

    “We’ll be on the trebuchets. I know you don’t like this Sera, but you’re here, and the faster we get this done, the faster we can all go somewhere safe.” Kelasi spoke with sternness, trying to brace them all for what’s to come. Sera nodded and managed to stop swearing briefly. “Let’s go,” Kelasi finished, and they walked out of the gate. 

 

    A group of Templars stormed up, three wearing helmets that glowed red, and two that looked more like monsters. They might have been men at one point, but now they were swollen and large, more red lyrium than flesh. They looked like abominations, and if red lyrium could turn Templars into abominations, no wonder Varric feared it. 

 

    Inquisition soldiers rushed passed their skirmish with the soldiers, moving to protect the trebuchet. Krem led them, and fear caught up in his throat, for him and all of the soldiers under him. Arrows and magic flew through the air, grabbing templars where they could. Kelasi’s arrow explodes, killing the already injured horrors. Cassandra charged in to meet the Templars heading for the trebuchet, though the rest of them stay back until it’s clear, helping where they can. 

 

    Dorian feels guilty about it, but he barriers Krem and his troops. Cassandra has the horn that keeps them safe, and the soldiers look as green in combat as he feels. In between barriers, he freezes as many people as he can. Sera isn’t doing as well, and every time she swears he wishes Vivienne or even Solas were closer to Kelasi than she. Sometimes Solas could be good for things, even if it wasn’t often. Sera could shoot as well as Kelasi at least. 

 

    None of the troops fell, and they got the trebuchet firing. It wasn’t much of a respite, as Krem led his troops to the southern trebuchet. Kelasi paused by one of the supply caches she insisted be put everywhere, debating whether she should take it. Instead, she pulled out a potion for Cassandra from their personal supplies. She drank it, and the cuts on her face from the shattering horrors healed. None of the rest of them are hurt, thanks to Cassandra’s horn and his barriers. He can’t help but pray it stays that way as they move on. 

 

    The southern trebuchet is overrun, bloody bodies the only remains of the original guard. Kelasi and Sera both line up shots as soon as they have them, arrows hitting two of the Templars before anyone knows they’re there. He dropped a barrier on Cassandra as she met one of them, Krem slipping around behind him to cut him off at the knees. Cassandra and Krem share a look, and charge in fighting, working together to pull as many of them off of the troops as they can. With as well as they worked together, they must have been training. Sera’s explosive arrow finishes off the last of them, and the trebuchet is clear. 

 

    Dorian counts the people they have remaining, making sure they didn’t lose any of Krem’s troops. They haven’t, although Dorian digs into a supply cache and makes all of them drink a potion. Kelasi smiles at him as she winds up the trebuchet. She huddles close to the handle, her small dwarven frame disappearing into the night. 

 

    Even so, Sera stands on guard in front of the stairs, bow drawn and ready. Swearing or not, he agreed with her priorities. He positioned himself in front of her, keeping his ice wall spell on the tip of his tongue. Chain lightning was an easier spell, and he used that as much as he could, while keeping a barrier up on Kelasi. Krem and Cassandra were ahead of him, using their shields to push people back so the Inquisition archers could take them down. None of them were as talented as Kelasi, but they did her proud, and the trebuchet was ready to fire. 

 

    Kelasi released the catch, and a rock flew into the mountain. It released an avalanche over the red Templars, and a cheer rang out. It was echoed by the cries of a beast he didn’t recognize. His eyes went wide as he saw a half rotted beast. It looked like a dragon the way the Elder One looked like a man. It breathed fire on the trebuchet, and he had enough time to get a barrier down before everyone was knocked off their feet. It was enough to cover the five of them, but no more, and the troops got buried in debris. 

 

    “This day has gone well beyond making sense,” he panted as he managed to stand up. Krem was helping Sera to her feet, Kelasi already heading for the main gate. Cassandra waits impatiently by the supply cache, her stock replenished and her wounds healed. She dances from foot to foot, until everyone has a chance to catch up and they move on to the smithy. It’s on fire, because everything is on fire now, and the smith is trying to break down a crate blocking the door. Nothing could be worth risking that many burns. 

 

    “Herald! Can you help me with this door?” he asks. Cassandra makes a disgusted noise and pushes him back, shouldering the crate aside. “Good one! Just grabbing essentials, I won’t die for the forge.” They paused a moment until they could see he made it clear, and rushed the gates. Wing beats follow Dorian, and startle him into putting up another barrier. 

 

    “Move it! Move it!” Cullen hurries as many troops as he can through the gate, barring it after Kelasi is safely inside. The despair on his face shows their losses for a moment before he becomes the commander again. “We need everyone back to the Chantry. It’s the only building that might hold against that beast.” He hears it cry out and pain flashes across his face. “At this point, just make them work for it.” 

 

    “The villagers will need help if they are to survive this,” Dorian told Kelasi. He could hear someone crying out as Templars leaped over a fence. They headed towards the action, two scouts surrounded and looking hard pressed to stay safe. He recognizes one of them as Lysette, a Templar the Inquisition rescued from demons after the Conclave. He was glad to see her alive, she was fiercely devoted to her work here. Cassandra charged in first, followed by Krem. They worked together again, managing to keep the Templars too occupied to notice they were beaten. 

 

    “Good work Herald!” Lysette told them as the last of the horrors fell. “Still more to do here, go protect the Chantry.” 

 

    They headed up the stairs, more Templars jumping through whatever gaps in the wall they could find. Kelasi ignored them in favor of someone calling out from a burning building. When the door wouldn’t open, she shot it, point blank and with a full draw. The door blasted open, shattering pieces of what looked like the roof. He shot ice magic inside to delay the fire, and turned to help with the remaining Templars. 

 

     That done, they rushed on ahead. Templars were at the Chantry door, though two more soldiers attempted to fight them off. They joined the fray as Krem gave a worried yell. Dorian cast a barrier on them. Must be one of Krem’s, and Krem had already lost too much tonight. 

 

    They headed around toward the inn, following cries of help. More Templars arrived, because of course rescuing someone from burning to death couldn’t be simple. Kelasi left them to fight, darting into the building to free Flissa from debris. Dorian’s heart sank as he watched the rest of the inn burn. So many good memories here, all lost because of this Elder One. It made him furious, and he used that fury to power his magic.

 

    “I hear a voice!” Dorian called out over the roaring flames and battle cries. There were two people pinned under debris. He knew those containers. They held the offensive potions before they were bottled, and fire was creeping up on them fast. He and Krem helped pull the man free, while Cassandra grabbed the woman. The fire reached the jars, and heat nipped at their heels. 

 

    “I think that’s everyone,” Krem said as he scanned the area. Sera nodded in agreement, and they ran for the Chantry. Chancellor Roderick was standing at the doors, guiding them in. He’d looked better, his face was purple with bruises and his lips seemed to be turning white from blood loss. He clutched his stomach, but managed to close and bar the doors behind them. Cole caught him before he could fall over, though it was close. 

 

    “He tried to stop a Templar,” Cole explained as he guided Roderick to a chair. “The blade went deep, he’s going to die,” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone. 

 

    “What a charming boy,” Roderick replied. Dorian couldn’t help but agree on both counts. Roderick was going to die, but he didn’t need to be told in such blunt terms. 

 

    “Herald!” Cullen called out. “Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us.” He ran over as Cole got Roderick settled, pitching his voice low to avoid being overheard. 

 

    “I’ve seen an archdemon. I was in the fade, but it looked like that.” Cole’s contribution, odd as always. 

 

    “I don’t care what it looks like!” Cullen snapped back. “It’s cut a path for that army! They’ll kill everyone in Haven.” That got Dorian’s hackles up. Yes, it was grim and tempers were short, but there was no good in yelling at people who didn’t deserve it. Cole didn’t seem bothered, however. 

 

    “The Elder One doesn’t care about the village, he only wants the Herald.” Cole’s tone was a patient tone, more often used on children but it managed to stun everyone into silence. They all stared at Kelasi. Dorian could guess what she was going to say, based on what he knew of her so far. 

 

    “If it will save these people, he can have me,” Kelasi spoke into the silence. It was exactly what he expected. 

 

    “It won’t. He wants to kill you. No one else matters, but he’ll crush them. Kill them anyway. I don’t like him,” Cole said with a despair that sounded like experience. Somehow Cole reminded him of Felix a little, in the way he was aware and unaware of the world around him. 

 

    “You don’t like…” Cullen huffed. Dorian was ready to interject, to tell him not to lose his temper when it was undeserved, but Cullen cut himself off. “Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide.” There was desperation in his voice, clinging to a dark hope that they could take out the army at their doorstep as they died. 

 

    “We’re overrun,” Kelasi retorted. There was fire in her voice, and the same determination that made her dive into burning buildings to save her people. “To hit the enemy, we’d bury Haven.” 

 

    “We’re dying, but we can decide how. Many don’t get that choice.” Cullen’s voice broke. Haven had become more than a place. It was everything they built, all of the hopes they worked towards. He looked over at Roderick, all of the injured troops lining the walls. The Chantry stank, rotten meat, blood, charred tissue and hair. There wasn’t hope here, there couldn’t be now. 

 

    Cole was an odd beacon of serenity in all of this. He was glowing, faintly, as he stared at Roderick. Even though no words were exchanged, he seemed to be listening. Dorian could feel him staring at Cullen, then Roderick, then Cullen again, even though his eyes were hidden. 

 

    “Yes, that,” Cole responded aloud. There was more to to his boy, for certain. “Chancellor Roderick can help. He wants to say it before he dies.” 

 

    “There is a path,” Roderick was wheezing as he spoke, air leaking out of the hole in his lungs the blade left. “You wouldn’t know it unless you’ve made the summer pilgrimage, as I have. The people can escape. She must have shown me, Andraste must have shown me so I can tell you.” He stood up, hunched over with his arm pressed against his stomach. 

 

    “What are you on about?” Kelasi asked. There was a kind look in her eyes that blunted the harsh words. 

 

    “It was a whim that I walked the path. I didn't mean to start. It was overgrown. Now, with so many in the Conclave dead, to be the only one who remembers.” He gave a soft laugh, which ended up being more of a wheeze. “I don’t know. If this simple memory can save us, this could be more than mere accident. You could be more.” 

 

    “What about it, Cullen? Will it work?” Kelasi asked, desperate hope in her voice.

 

    “Possibly. If he shows us the path. What of your escape?” Cullen asked, and everyone fell silent. Kelasi shook her head, almost imperceptibly. Realizing he made an error, he corrected. 

 

    “Perhaps you will surprise it, find a way.” More awkward silence for a moment. “Inquisition!” he bellowed, and all of the noises of crisis faded. “Follow Chancellor Roderick through the Chantry. Move!” Cullen hand picked a few people, talking to them in a low voice. Cole shouldered Chancellor Roderick’s weight, managing easily despite being slight. Roderick came face to face with Kelasi, looked her firmly in the eye. 

 

    “Herald, if you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this,” he had to pause to take a deep breath in, a sucking sound coming from his stomach. He steadied himself, speaking as loud as he could. “I pray for you.” Cole led him off, and he sunk against the boy, exhausted. The troops Cullen talked to rushed out the door, their armor clanking as the doors burst open. 

 

    “They’ll load the trebuchets. Keep the Elder One’s attention until we’re above the treeline.” Cullen gave her a significant look, brows drawn down, and she looked back at him with the steely determination she saved for stubborn people. “If we are to have a chance, if you are to have a chance, let that thing hear you.” 

 

    The five of them went out the doors into a flood of Templars.They were easily dispatched, Krem hovering close to Dorian. The metallic screams of the archdemon rang through the air, and Dorian had to force himself to keep going. All of the people in this town that had taken him in without question, were counting on him, he reminded himself. There were worse things than dying, and letting them down would be one of them. 

 

    Haven was a burned husk, fire dotting the roofs of the buildings. They moved through it, eerily deserted. The Inquisition had been bursting at the seams, people everywhere you looked, and now it was nothing but Templars. He couldn’t pay much attention, worrying about whether they’d leave Kelasi. He wasn’t sure whether staying with her or leaving would be worse. 

 

    Finally, they made it to the trebuchet, Kelasi moving to aim it. They kept getting interrupted by increasingly desperate Templars. Sera took so many arrows he was worried she would fall, but she gave as good as she got. She downed potions in between shots, diving in under Krem or Cassandra. He aimed where she went, freezing people in place to make her shots easier. Kelasi stayed at the wheel of the trebuchet, spinning until it was aimed the right way. 

 

    “Move, now!” she said in a tone that wouldn’t take no for an answer. They all ran for the Chantry, even as he heard more cries from the archdemon, and the Elder One speak for the first time. It was a voice that sent chills down his spine. Leaving her with that thing felt worse than staying ever would, even though he knew it was necessary. He would have to content himself with getting Krem to safety. The only thing he could do for Kelasi was pray that she would come through this alright. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad news, my health issues are continuing to get worse. Best news I've had kinda ever, artzgrommet made wonderful shirts of me and my boyfriend, with art. Fan art. On something I wrote. It's the best, pretty much ever. Artz doesn't have an etsy shop yet, but when they do, you should give them all of the money. 
> 
> http://dragonsatmidnight.tumblr.com/post/169322685176/the-lovely-artzgromet-made-these-for-me-and

    Cassandra made it to the Chantry first, Sera tumbling in behind her. Dorian was winded from everything else that had happened, and Krem pulled him in. She slammed the door shut, barring it, and then ran to move some of the nearby furniture up against it. 

 

    “I will take care of this. If there is anything you can save here, get it. We will follow the others after we delay the Elder one as much as we can.” There was worry in her voice, and she gave the door worried glances whenever something made a noise, but she kept going. Krem started gathering up the drip buckets and pouring it on the barricade and anything else he could. Make it harder to burn and it might take them longer. 

 

    Sera started gathering up as many of the furs lying around as she could, attaching one to her leather armor with hooks to keep her hands free. When she threw one at Dorian, he found similar hooks on his own set of armor, and attached it. He was going to need all of the extra warmth he could get. 

 

    Dorian bolted down the stairs to his library cell, only to find it empty. How had they managed to get all of the books out in time to evacuate? Leliana, probably. She valued information, and it wouldn’t surprise him to learn that she had plans in place in case they needed to get the entire group out in a hurry. It was useful that her mind worked in such a way, but it must be grim to plan for the worst. 

 

    His books were safe, so what could he grab here that would be useful to him? The fur Sera handed him was warm enough. Just in case, he checked Vivienne’s work table, as well as Minave’s research station, and found everything had been thoroughly packed. Feeling useless, he picked up candles off the floor, pouring off the excess wax. They got stuffed into his pockets. Not that a few candles would make a difference, but at least he was useful. 

 

    The others weren’t there when he arrived at the back exit of the Chantry. Sera was first, wrapped in more furs and carrying somewhere between five and seven quivers. Considering how many furs she was wearing, it was hard to tell. Krem arrived with Cassandra close on her heels, and they all left, closing the exit behind them.

 

    “It is urgent that we catch up with the others, but we will need to take care. The weather will kill just as easily as the Red Templars. If you start to sweat, let me know, and we will slow down.” Cassandra sank further into the fur that Sera handed her, and began plodding down the hill. Sera stayed close, her bow drawn and ready. She followed Cassandra’s footsteps, and for as much as she swore about the red Templars, she didn’t complain at all now. 

 

    Dorian followed her, doing his best to keep up. The snow was heavy, and all of the combat exhausted him. His eyes drifted open and shut sometimes, until Krem prodded him to keep moving. The cold didn’t help as much as he hoped, but he kept putting one foot in front of the other. Just get to the others, and he might be able to get warm. 

 

    “I see lights,” Cassandra said, a frown on her face. He blinked at her, trying to see her more clearly through the snow. “This is too soon for them to have stopped. I will move ahead to make sure it’s them.” She moved through the snow more quickly than he could have imagined. He was tired looking at it. Somehow she was lifting her feet above the snow, too, leaving foot prints instead of the drag marks from his stumbling. It didn’t take her long to return. 

 

    “There were too many people needing medical attention. This is as far as we can travel for now.” She looked them over. “I know that you are all cold and tired, but we are relatively unhurt, and there are people who could use our help. Find things that need doing, and do them, and we will let you rest as soon as we can.” Dorian nodded at her, and shuffled in her direction. 

 

      He was useless at healing, so it would do him no good to help in the wounded tent. There were screams coming from over there, low moans that echoed throughout camp. His heart ached for them, even as he knew he could do nothing to make their lives better. Josephine caught his eye. She was at the center of something, marking names on a list. He could do lists, if she needed the help. 

 

    “You look busy,” Dorian told her as soon as the person she was talking to left. “Is there any way I can help?” 

 

   “Oh goodness, I think I am alright. Plenty to do, certainly, but I can do it.” She turned away slightly to grab a piece of paper from someone in Inquisition armor. Their arm was in a sling, but that seemed to be their only injury. “Thank you,” Josephine murmured, comparing the small sheet to a larger list on her ever present writing surface. Her candle was low, and he couldn’t see any nearby. 

 

     “Cassandra told me to grab anything useful from the Chantry before I left. Because Leliana had already evacuated all of my books, I couldn’t find anything except candles. It felt silly at the time, but it looks like you could use some.” He pulled what felt like a ridiculous number of candles out of his pockets. How many of them had he found? 

 

    “Oh, thank you! I’m trying to account for all of our people, and I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when my candle burned down. The torches are for the watch and the injury tent, and all of our candles are packed away.” Josephine set down her board on a nearby table, pulling off the stump of a candle she had left and blowing it out. There was a small peg of metal, sharp on one end, that she pushed the fresh candle on. Dorian touched it, coaxing it to life with a small flame. 

 

    “Now that’s taken care of, really, what can I do to help?” He gave her his best charming smile, and got one in return. He could tell she was about to refuse again. “I promise, I want to help however I can. Even if it’s small. I’m not much of a soldier and I’ve never known how to heal, but I want to do something.” Josephine more seriously considered before she answered. 

    “You know, we didn’t get much of a chance to account for the mages. I’m trying to account for all of our people, make sure we know who is…” Her face looked bleak. “Who is dead, who is injured, who is missing, and who is whole. We want to get word to their families. But I don’t know the mages. They were understandably wary about having a list of everyone in the alliance. Such things have been used to persecute mages in the past. And you worked with them, so you might have a better idea of who we are missing.” Dorian nodded. 

 

    “I didn’t work with them as closely as I might have, but I’ll see what I can do.” He didn’t grab paper, didn’t want to scare the mages any more than he already had. The first step would be Fiona. She was covered in blood, attempting to use the magic she had to keep someone alive. An assistant kept passing her lyrium potions, and he decided that her work was more important. Instead, he relied on his memory. He knew all of the people who helped seal the breach, and all but one of them were somewhere in the camp. 

 

    He found the unfortunate missing person under a sheet, gathered together with all of the bodies that would be bundled together, and burned with magic. It would be a massive signal flare, and they didn’t want to do it until just before they moved out, but these people deserved funeral rites of some kind. Josephine promised that there would be a more formal ceremony when everyone was safe, and he believed her. 

 

    Fiona was done with her patient by the time he went to find her again. She seemed amazed that someone thought to check in with the mages, to treat them with the same care as any of the soldiers of the Inquisition. Dorian narrowly resisted rolling his eyes, explaining for what felt like the tenth time that the mages weren’t servants. They were allies, deserving of as much protection and care as anyone else. 

 

    It didn’t occur to him until after he left that it was a reflection of how mages were treated. If something happened in one of the towers, would the Templars leave the mages to die? Would they not care about the missing, the injured, and anyone who might be saved? No wonder rebellion seemed like a good idea. He shuddered, moving on to finish his list of people missing. In the end, there were five dead mages, and another three no one could find anywhere. 

 

    Eight lives, swept away. Eight that he knew, plus the broken bodies outside of the gates, the injured in the tent, and the pile of bodies growing as those with injuries succumbed. It was dark, cold, and he was more exhausted than he could remember being. All he wanted was a warm bed, and Krem. But all of his blood was still in his body, and he had hands. 

 

    Instead of sleeping, he organized. Leaving in a hurry meant that they grabbed as much as they could, however it would fit. Moving on would normally be more of a priority, but with the fate of so many injured at stake, there was time to take inventory. 

 

    Besides, everyone wanted to stay somewhat close, give Kelasi a chance to catch up. If she survived, which wasn’t likely, even though no one wanted to admit it. He’d been trying to avoid the thought. The more time went by, the less likely she was to be alive. Dorian shuddered, willing the idea out of his head as he went back to his inventory. Getting lost in the process was soothing, until a familiar hand rested on his shoulder. 

 

    “Iron Bull has been going around, telling people to get rest. His boys will take over looking after the camp, and Josephine set up a tent for us.” Krem’s voice made him realize how much sleep sounded like a good idea. His eyes were starting to cross, and the bottle of ink he’d been using was nearly frozen. 

 

    “Alright,” Dorian replied has he stood up. Some of his joints creaked, and he realized just how cold he was. Krem led him to the tent, holding his hand so Dorian put one foot in front of the other instead of blinking at the snowflakes falling down. The tent wasn’t much. It was small, just big enough to hold a pile of furs and blankets on top of a small cot. 

 

    He took his boots off, and then crawled under, Krem following him after he took off his armor. Dorian was shivering, unable to get warm even under the blankets. Krem sighed softly, and moved to wrap himself around Dorian. Dorian wanted to protest, but the warmth felt so nice. Krem gave him a slight squeeze as his shivers stopped, and Dorian was asleep before he could worry about Kelasi. 

 

**. . .**

 

   Shouting woke him up. When he stirred, he felt Krem’s hands pet his stomach gently. Usually, it would give him pleasant shivers. Tonight, it just made him feel warm and loved. 

 

    “Good morning,” Dorian told Krem in between outbursts. It sounded like Cassandra and Cullen were yelling about what to do next. The pauses were no doubt Leliana and Josephine providing suggestions at a more reasonable volume. 

 

    “I was hoping you’d be able to go back to sleep. You’ve been stirring sometimes, but if I cuddled you some you would drift off again. Kelasi made it into camp, but I didn’t want to wake you up.” Krem’s voice was quiet, pitched to not stray much outside of their tent. 

 

    “She’s here and you didn’t tell me?” Dorian’s voice made it outside the tent, judging by the pause in the shouting of the advisors. 

 

    “Yes, but she’s been in the medical tent, and after they got her warmed up and treated for being far too cold she fell asleep. I figured it wasn’t worth waking you for if you wouldn’t be allowed to see her, and after the night you had I figured you needed the rest.” Krem continued to keep his voice low, and now that Dorian was less startled he appreciated the soldier’s tact. 

 

    “But did you get any sleep? It sounds like you spent most of the night looking after me.” It made him feel odd to realize that Krem looked out for him that much. Odd in what way, he wasn’t sure. No one had taken an interest in his wellbeing, not since Alexius, who cared in a very different way. Dorian was good at magic, and had talent and potential that was being wasted. That didn’t mean that Alexius cared about how Dorian felt or whether he was getting enough sleep. 

 

    “I’ve been sleeping off and on through the yelling. We can’t all sleep as soundly as you after physical activity.” There was such fondness in Krem’s tone that it took any edge off. Krem also gave him a little squeeze, and Dorian was reluctant to brave the cold to find Kelasi.Even after fleeing for his life from an archdemon, toiling for hours in the cold, and sleeping in a tent in the middle of what felt like a blizzard, this was the safest place he could imagine. If he stayed in Krem’s arms much longer, he would fall asleep again.

    He drifted, falling in and out of sleep. The advisors were still yelling, white noise that ebbed and flowed. People shuffled by the tent in the snow, and sometimes if the snowflakes got big enough he could hear them hit the roof of the tent. Krem stayed with him, even when he rolled over and buried his face in Krem’s chest. The pillowy bosoms startled him for a moment, until he remembered and resettled. 

 

    “I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?” Dorian hadn’t seen much of Krem without his corset. Krem went to bed after he did, and was usually awake and gone before Dorian woke up. It couldn’t be a part of his body he was keen to interact with in any way, and here Dorian was stuffing his face in it. 

 

    “It’s not a part of my body I like to think about. I don’t like that I have to tie my chest down every morning, or deal with the discomfort of wearing a corset all day. Times like this, where I don’t have it on, and I can just relax and forget about it, it’s nice.” Krem shifted, and Dorian moved slightly up, so he was burrowed in Krem’s neck instead. The concentration of smells there was heady. He could feel himself getting hard. “Touching them can remind me, so I tend to prefer not.” 

 

    “I’ll remember that. Does it help that I don’t see you as less male?” Dorian noticed his voice getting slightly rough, and his cock was poking something he hoped Krem couldn’t feel. He’d never been held like this, having slept in a tiny circle bed or under his parent’s roof his entire life. It was warm, even warmer than having Krem curled around him, with the added benefit of being able to feel all of Krem’s muscles. 

 

    “Somewhat. I still feel like they aren’t supposed to be there, and that doesn’t always have anything to do with how people see me.” Krem was rubbing Dorian’s back, and his shirt had ridden up slightly. His fingers teased at Dorian’s bare skin, and Dorian nearly groaned. When he looked up at Krem, Krem had a knowing grin on his face. So Krem could feel what his cock was doing. He stared at Krem’s lips, willing his hips to keep still. Being close like this made it easy to forget that he would still need to go back to Tevinter, face his father, and marry Caidy. Mother Giselle’s voice broke through the thoughts in his head, and made it easier to pull away from Krem. 

 

    “Shhh, you need to rest,” she told the person in the tent next to them. 

 

    “They’ve been at it for hours,” Kelasi replied, and Dorian’s knees went weak with relief. If he wasn’t already laying down, he would’ve fallen over. She was safe, and he could hear it. He didn’t need to feel guilty about staying in bed with Krem. 

 

    “They have that luxury, thanks to you,” Giselle replied. Dorian couldn’t help but worry they weren’t as quiet as they thought they were. Tents didn’t insulate against sound very much, considering how well he could hear her. “The enemy could not follow, and with time to doubt, we turn to blame. Infighting may threaten us as much as this Corypheus.” 

 

    “Do we know where Corypheus and his forces are?” Kelasi asked. That was a disturbing thought. They felt safe here, because of the heavy snowfall and the distance they managed to get from Haven. He could feel his heart pound faster at the thought of being ambushed. 

 

    “We are not sure where we are. Which may be why, despite the numbers he still commands, there is no sign of him. That, or you are believed dead. Or without Haven, we are thought helpless. Or he girds for another attack. I cannot claim to know the mind of that creature, only his affect on us.” Mother Giselle impressed him for sounding as calm as she did through that entire thing. The idea of any of those options terrified him, especially since they weren’t sure where they were headed or whether or not they’d be able to feed themselves there. 

 

    “If they’re arguing about what we do next, I need to be there,” Kelasi replied, and he could hear the sounds of her getting up. Maybe she realized that they needed to move on from here as quickly as they could. 

 

    “Another heated voice won’t help. Even yours. Perhaps especially yours.” Mother Giselle paused, leaving him waiting for what she would say next. “Our leaders struggle because of what we witnessed. We saw our defender stand… and fall. And now, we have seen her return. The more the enemy is behind us, the more miraculous your actions appear. And the more your trials seem ordained. That is hard to accept, no? What  _ we _ have been called to endure, What,  _ we _ , perhaps, must come to believe.” 

 

    “I escaped the avalanche. Barely, perhaps, but I didn’t die.” Kelasi sounded somewhere between confused and angry. He didn’t blame her. To somehow end up in a divine crusade, all because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Mother Giselle continued in the same infuriating tone that made everything seem reasonable even as the world burst into flames. 

 

     “Of course, and the dead cannot return from across the veil. But the people know what they saw. Or perhaps what they needed to see. The Maker works both in the moment, and in how it is remembered. Can we truly know if the heavens are  _ not _ with us?” Dorian admired her faith, even as he didn’t understand it. 

 

    It was impossible for him to look at the world around him and not see someone behind it, but it was another thing entirely to believe that the Maker was acting in his life, in one way or another. And if the Maker was alive, did that mean he had to believe that Corypheus was one of the magisters that tainted the golden city? Everyone in Tevinter called it rubbish, but if one of the founders of the empire broke the world, wouldn’t it be on them to fix it? 

 

    “You saw Corypheus,” Kelasi eventually replied. “What do you think of his claims of assaulting the heavens?” 

 

    “Scripture says magisters, Tevinter servants of the false Old Gods, entered the seat of the Maker. For their crime, they were cast out as Darkspawn. Their hubris is why we suffer the Blight, and why the Maker is turned from us.” That confused Dorian. If the Maker was turned away from them, how could he or Andraste intervene enough to assist Kelasi? “If such is the claim of Corypheus, he is a monster beyond imagining. All mankind continues to suffer for that sin. If even a shred of it is true, all the more reason Andraste would choose someone to go against him.” 

 

   “Mother Giselle…” Kelasi sounded so small, and he couldn’t blame her. “I just don’t see how what I believe matters. Lies or not, Corypheus is a real, physical threat. We can’t match that with hope alone.” 

 

    He heard the sounds of her standing up, and the way her feet crunched through the snow. He could picture the look on her face. It was similar to the one he would catch sometimes when she didn’t know he was looking. Bafflement at the position she was in, and an attempt to see her way through the chaos that surrounded her. She’d look over the whole Inquisition that way. There’s less of the Inquisition, but it’s not any less complicated to help. 

 

    Knowing her, she was also blaming herself for everything that happened. No one could expect to face down an archdemon for fixing a hole in the world, or that the Templars would rain down destruction upon Haven. As it was, the evacuation plans and Kelasi’s efforts made it possible for the Inquisition to still be here. If there was anything more that could have been done, she would have done it. There was no doubt in his mind that she cared for her people, and she would make whatever sacrifices she needed to in order to keep them safe. 

 

    A second set of footsteps followed Kelasi, no doubt Mother Giselle. She started singing, and he couldn’t help but sit up, putting on clothes so he could see where this was going. Krem followed suit, and he could hear the familiar sound of his corset being laced. 

 

_ Shadows fall _

_ And hope has fled _

_ Steel your heart _

_ The dawn will come _

 

_ The night is long _

_ And the path is dark _

_ Look to the sky _

_ For one day soon _

_ The dawn will come _

 

    Dorian and Krem stumbled out of the tent, to see the camp starting to move. People were gathering at the sound of the song, to the sun just starting to peek over the horizon. The advisors gave up their shouting match, and Dorian heard Leliana join the song. Was this a Fereldan song, or just one from the south? 

 

_ The shepherd’s lost _

_ And his home is far _

_ Keep to the stars  _

 

__  More and more people from around the camp start singing. He can recognize some of the voices from around camp. Even though he doesn’t know the words, he can join in the throng headed towards Kelasi. 

 

_ The dawn will come _

_ The night is long _

 

__ Even Cullen joins in, and Dorian is surprised at how well the former Templar can sing. 

 

_ And the path is dark _

_ Look to the sky _

_ For one day soon _

_ The dawn will come _

 

__ The first people who reach Kelasi kneel, and Dorian and Krem follow them. The song continues, everyone who can still walk kneeling in front of Kelasi. They honor the person who brought them out of here, the reason that they are all still alive. She sacrificed, and they repay it in song in devotion. 

 

_ Bare your blade _

_ And raise it high _

_ Stand your ground _

_ The dawn will come _

 

_ The night is long _

_ And the path is dark _

_ Look to the sky _

_ For one day soon _

_ The dawn will come _

 

__ “An army needs more than an enemy,” Mother Giselle told Kelasi and the crowd kneeling in front of her. “It needs a cause.” 

 

    Solas shook his head at the song, and Dorian sighed. The elf couldn’t appreciate big moments when they happened. He led Kelasi off to chat with her out of ear shot, and Dorian mingled with the camp. It was much more lively now, people laughing and joking. The injured were tended, the dead were burned, and their leader was returned to them. All they needed was a new home, and they could go back to their purpose. 

 

**. . .**

 

Scouts were sent off to the north as Dorian’s shift gathered for breakfast. Solas’ chat with Kelasi had given them a place to start. Of the injured remaining, all of them were expected to live. It made for a cheerier camp. Food supplies weren’t critical yet, thanks to Leliana’s stores, but hunting parties were starting to rotate in and out of camp while they waited on word from camp. 

 

__ Dorian made himself scarce for that part. As much as he enjoyed eating meat, he didn't enjoy the process of watching it being skinned. Krem, as always, volunteered to help, and Dorian fervently wished he cleaned his hands before touching anything in their tent. Josephine would have less gory work for him.

 

    He toiled away at lists for a while, sifting through allies who needed to be written letters. Some of them were gentle reminders about forces or resources promised, some were updates about activity, and some threats the Inquisition resolved. It was clerical work, something his father would consider beneath him, but he found he rather enjoyed it. It was soothing to watch the ink flow across the page. 

 

     A victory cry drew him out of his work, and he surged out of his chair. The entire Inquisition had the same idea, everyone trying to dogpile the poor woman who saw the returning scouts. A spyglass got passed around, until the scouts were in view. Then everyone tried their best to look busy. Not that it went well, considering fifty people were gathered around a telescope. They smirked, and headed for Leliana’s tent. 

 

    When they emerged, Leliana invited all of the advisors to her tent. They chatted for another half hour, leaving Dorian time to start packing up what he’d organized. Sure enough, when the advisors emerged, they gave the order to move out. Solas bounded around the camp, offering help. Everyone groused at him, because they had plenty to do without him getting in the way. 

 

    They departed, Solas at the head of the group. Dorian couldn’t help but wonder why they needed to bother with scouts. Surely all of the dreaming Solas did in the fade had already told him of the place they were heading. Kelasi stood by him, her advisors following closely behind, and everyone else fanning out behind them. 

 

    The whole caravan stopped in its tracks, and gasps of wonder went out as they looked at what was in front of them. A beautiful stone castle seemed chiseled into the rocks. Tattered banners flew in the wind, looking like a product from a previous age. A narrow bridge led to the entrance, a chasm protecting them from all but a trickle of attackers. It was beautiful. Someone had left this standing, unattended? But if the Inquisition could make a home here, this was the fortress they needed, it was solid stone. Even as there was stone crumbling in places, it looked like it could handle anything. 

 

    “Skyhold,” Solas pronounces it, and the Inquisition surges forward, eager to settle somewhere that will provide protection. It takes a while to get the entire group through the gate, and Dorian finds himself waiting impatiently, stuck behind all of the injured that needed special care and comfort as soon as it was possible. He took a deep breath, and once again found Krem’s hand on his shoulder. He smiled at Krem, feeling his cheeks warm at the memory of them sharing a tent. 

 

    Eventually they made it inside, which was bustling with people. He was surprised at the level of activity, considering how much of their party still waited on the other side of the bridge. Everyone was in a hurry to get things tucked away and tidied. People in Inquisition armor, ran in and out, stepping around the group of advisors he could see chatting away. He stood by and watched as Krem started to move their things to where they would be staying. When Kelasi exited one of the buildings and approached them, they all broke away looking guilty. What was going on here? Cassandra wouldn’t make eye contact as she started talking. 

 

    “They arrive daily, from every settlement in the region. Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage.” Cassandra shifted from foot to foot, arms held behind her back in parade rest. She and Kelasi headed up a flight of stairs, out of reach of his ears. Part of him wanted to sneak closer, but he joined the gathering crowd instead. People waited, until Cassandra and Kelasi came back into view. The murmurs from the crowd drowned out the conversation they were still having. Leliana stepped forward, presenting a sword. The crowd increased in size, and tension rolled over them. 

 

    Where they about to announce what everyone already knew? Kelasi had saved almost everyone from Haven. She had been willing to sacrifice herself to save her people. She’d led them to Skyhold, found a place to defend and grow. People gathered here because they heard of her legend. 

 

    Cassandra and Kelasi talked for a few minutes, voices pitched low. Kelasi looked stunned. Cassandra looked wary. Leliana looked as she always did. No one would guess what she was feeling unless she wanted them to. The crowd pressed forward, as Leliana handed over the sword. Kelasi was about to say something, and everyone wanted to hear it. 

 

    “This isn’t about a greater message. We have a common enemy. The Inquisition will fight for all of us.” Her voice echoed around the square, the crowd silent to hear her better. Cassandra stepped forward. 

 

    “Wherever you lead us,” Cassandra projected her voice over the crowd as cheers rang out. Dorian felt deafened the roar was so loud. Could any group of people love their leader more than one who saved them? “Have our people been told?”

 

    “They have,” Josephine replied, projecting back. Hers wasn’t as effective, but Dorian could still hear her. “And soon, the world.” 

 

    “Commander, will they follow?” Cassandra asked Cullen. 

 

    “Inquisition!” His bellow was louder than Cassandra’s. Was this just something most commanders and soldiers were taught? Battlefields did seem as though as they would be loud. “Will you follow?” The crowd roared back to life. “Will you fight?” A louder roar this time, accompanied by the sounds of weapons striking shields from some of the soldiers. “Will we triumph?” Cullen hedl both arms above his head, asking for them to make as much noise as they could, and they obliged. “Your leader, your herald, your Inquisitor!” Cullen drew his sword and pointed it at Kelasi, everyone in the crowd following his lead. Kelasi raised hers in reply, and Dorian could feel the joy in the air around him. 

 

    She shone in that moment, and he couldn’t help but join in with the crowd. Something amazing was happening here, and she was leading it. Kelasi took in all of these scattered people and driven them towards the same cause. Justice, order, and above all, what was right. He only hoped that he could do half as well for Tevinter when it was time to go back home. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Found a med that's helping my pain, so you get a longer chapter! Woo hoo! Starting to get through more of the plot now, and I'm looking forward to getting to the fun stuff. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

    It didn’t take long to learn how much hard work Skyhold would need in order to hold up to its promise. There were holes in just about every building, and wood and stone littered the pathways. So far, there wasn’t room for much beyond the advisors and the Inquisitor. They pitched a communal tent in the great hall while they waited for their rooms to be finished. 

 

    Thankfully, the library didn’t require heavy lifting. It seemed to be the area of Skyhold that was the least damaged, Solas’ attempts to restore the paintings in the room below the library aside. All of the bookshelves were intact, though someone had put most of them out of order. There was no way to find anything in here, and if he made it easier to find everything, he could get out of clean up duty. He was much better at reading than cleaning. 

 

    He sighed happily, enjoying the chore. It was much bigger than the poor cell at Haven, and there were more books. When he asked Leliana about it, she explained. Her answer startled him almost as much as her giving a direct answer in the first place. Refugees brought books because the Inquisition was willing to buy them. Normally, they’d be dead weight, but if they could be sold or traded for food, they became much more valuable. 

 

    Leliana seemed quite fond of the idea, and she expounded a little more. Not only did it make books cheap for the Inquisition, it curried favor with people. They were treated with dignity, given a necessary service, and could part with things that might weigh them down when speed was important. The Inquisition got more knowledge, more goodwill, and the people were helped. No one lost. 

 

    No one except the library’s organizational system. Everything was jumbled together, weary guards dropping books onto shelves before moving on to their next task. The soldiers didn’t appreciate the library the same way he did, saw it only as a ploy for more good will. That made him more determined to find something useful in all of these tomes. 

 

    There had to be something, among all of the shelves, all of the chronicles that had been handed down and found their way to him. Some of them were old, and he was glad that it wasn’t his job to collect them, because they had been mauled, had food spilled on them, pages torn out, and the corners turned down to mark pages. These books were older than he was, and he couldn’t help but question where these people got them if they were in this condition. He sighed, and went back to organizing. Soft footfalls behind him made him turn around. 

 

    “You were just trying to restore order in a world gone mad. That’s enough for any person, don’t you think? And then an archdemon appears out of nowhere. ‘Could you at least manage not to crush my entire village?’ ‘No, can’t be helped, archdemons have to crush don’t you know.’ And yet here we all are, as if nothing has happened, thanks to you.” It brought a smile to Kelasi’s face, and that made him relax. She’d been tense ever since they got here, probably not helped by Vivienne telling her to learn from her mistake, Leliana using her to cope with the guilt of not getting more notice, and Solas nagging her about one thing after another. 

 

    “I don’t know how much I had to do with it,” Kelasi replied. That stunned him. “Leliana had evacuation plans in place, Cullen organized the forces to give me time, and Chancellor Roderick led us to the path. So much had to go right for it to happen.” 

 

    “Yes, that’s true. But one of the things that went right was the fact that you were willing to face Corypheus, by yourself, in an effort to save everyone else. Don’t discount that. And don’t discount the fact that we see how hard you work. You spend so much time taking care of other people that sometimes I worry you don’t take care of yourself.” He hoped the kind smile on his face softened the blow. He admired her, because he didn’t think that he could ever be as selfless as she was. She put the Inquisition ahead of herself, made sure that all of her companions were alright. In all of the chaos, everyone had something that needed doing, and she didn’t turn anyone away. 

 

    “I’m the only one who can close rifts,” she told him, shocked. 

 

    “Yes, which is why it’s a good thing that you have me around. So I can cheer you up and remind you to have fun once in a while. I’m all about fun, after all.” Dorian couldn’t help but notice Kelasi smirking at him. 

 

     “Is that why you’re hanging out in the library like a stuffy shaper?” Her grin grew broader as her question finished, her eyebrows raised in mock innocence. 

 

    “Who told you that libraries were stuffy? They’re plenty capable of being fun. Less so when the Chantry tomes of the history of divines is right next to books on Tevinter history, and history of the Orlesian occupation is next to kitchen recipes of Ferelden. But that’s why I’m here, to make the library fun again.” He understood that not everyone enjoyed being surrounded by books, and he knew enough about dwarves to understand why Kelasi wouldn’t, but libraries had always been a place of wonder for him. 

 

    “Here I thought all of the fun libraries were in Tevinter. I’m glad Leliana has gotten so good at collecting books that we’re starting to rival them as far as selection goes.” She was grinning, proud of sneaking in a compliment about his heritage, and all he could think about was Corypheus. She noticed the change in his expression. “What’s wrong?” 

 

     “No one ever wants to think that they’re the ones who ruined the world. But here we are, a magister in the flesh, one of the ones who tried to sit on the throne of the maker and brought us the darkspawn. Hard to be responsible for something like that.” What had possessed Corypheus? Not that he would know that he was condemning the world and ruining the empire he built. He also wouldn’t know that the stigma associated with magisters wouldn’t fade an age or more later. 

 

    “That’s the thing though. You, personally, aren’t responsible. Whatever Corypheus did, you didn’t have anything to do with it. You don’t have to own the entire history of a place to love it, or love other parts of its history. Especially since you want to change Tevinter for the better, more than anything.” Her face was kind, and there wasn’t pity on it. He believed her words, because she did. 

 

     “Thank you. It means something to hear you say that. I don’t want to deny where I come from, though. Even the bad parts. There are a lot of them in Tevinter, and I want to make sure do my part to not create any more.” Which was true. He wanted to get back to it as soon as the Inquisition could stand on its own, when Kelasi didn’t need him anymore. And when he was safe from his father. Both of them needed to happen, but who knew which one would happen first. 

 

    “I understand that,” Kelasi replied. “There’s parts of dwarven culture I can admire. And there are parts that are shameful, and I won’t ever understand. Our caste system, for one.” She sighed. “As much as I love looking at you, and enjoy your wit in our conversations, I was on my way to Leliana. I’m hoping she’ll have more information about the Grey Wardens, so that we can figure out what to do about the archdemon that can’t help but crush everything.” She smiled at him, and he smiled back at her remembering his silly joke. Her footsteps faded behind him, and he went back to organizing the library with more peace in his heart. 

 

**. . .**

 

Dorian couldn’t tell if he was relieved or disappointed to learn that Alexius was to be judged here, by the Inquisition. By Kelasi. He supposed how he felt would be determined by the judgement she made. He had faith in her, but he didn’t know if he could forgive Alexius, and he hadn’t been at the center of all of the scheming. Unsure if it was to test her or to make sure that her judgement was unaffected, Dorian hid himself in the crowd to watch the judgement. 

 

    The throne in the main room looked huge with Kelasi sitting in it. There was a crest of the Inquisition just visible above her head, with spikes that radiated out. It was severe, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous for Alexius because of it. The Inquisition remembers, it seemed to say. Josephine stepped out from behind the throne, a scroll in hand, and three Inquisition soldiers led Alexius in. He was manacled, and that hurt Dorian’s heart. 

 

    “You recall Gareon Alexius of Tevinter. Ferelden has given him to us as an acknowledgement of aid.” Josephine’s voice filled the room. Alexius was being given, like a slave, as though everything else he’d done in his life didn’t matter. “The formal charges are apostasy, attempted enslavement, and attempted assassination - on your own life, no less. Tevinter has disowned him and stripped him of his rank. You may judge the former Magister as you see fit.” 

 

    “I remember what would have happened to Thedas if your treachery had succeeded.” Kelasi’s arms remained against the arms of the throne. She sat up straight, and looked Alexius in the eye. Even here, she wouldn’t shirk her duty, and that gave him the faintest glimmer of hope. 

 

    “I couldn’t save my son. Do you think my own fate matters to me?” Alexius was nearly spitting with hatred, with grief. No way to know what Alexius would have become if he could have accepted the death of his son, accepted that there are things you can’t change. 

 

    “Will you offer nothing more in your defense?” Josephine questioned. She seemed incredulous that he wouldn’t, and all Dorian could think was that Alexius was finally, finally going to be held responsible for the choices he’d been making. Maybe the man he admired was still in there somewhere. 

 

    “You’ve won nothing! The people you’ve saved, the acclaim you’ve gathered - you’ll lose it all in the storm to come. Render your judgement Inquisitor.” With Alexius’ words, Dorian lost any hope he had. There was nothing left of the Alexius he knew, at least not now. Maybe there would be, in time, but Dorian wasn’t sure he’d ever see it. 

 

    “You swore to the mages you’d help them. I will have you uphold that promise. Fiona will take charge of you. Any knowledge, favor, or coin you own will go towards the mages’ future.” Kelasi’s voice rang out louder than Josephine’s, over the voices of people offering their opinions. 

 

    “A headsman would’ve been kinder,” Alexius spat back at Kelasi. Dorian didn’t care that Alexius was angry, didn’t care that he would resent his servitude. He was alive, and he would be forced to honor his word one way or another. It was more mercy than he deserved, but Dorian was grateful. He slipped through the crowds before Kelasi could spot him. 

 

    When he got back to his corner of the library, she was there waiting for him, holding a letter. Of course she came to check on him, to make sure that he was alright. She was the one who made sure that he could visit Alexius while he was being held captive. It was to her that he’d discussed wanting mercy, and she no doubt remembered that. 

 

   “Anything interesting?” she asked him as he read his letter. His face fell. Of course the day that Alexius was judged, he would get a letter with news of Felix. The news he’d been dreading, even as he expected it. 

 

    “A letter regarding Felix.” Dorian didn’t see any recognition in Kelasi’s face, so he paused to explain. “Alexius’ son. He went to the Magisterium, stood on the senate floor and told them of you.” His voice sounded bitter. How much worse did it make Felix, to endure the crowds, the light, the standing? “A glowing testimonial, I’m informed. No news on the reaction, but everyone back home is talking. Felix was always as good as his word.” 

 

    “Was?” Kelasi replied, her eyes softening. 

 

    “He’s dead. The blight caught up with him.” Dorian could feel his eyes starting to water, and he held it back. 

 

    “Are you alright?” Kelasi replied. Her voice was soft with concern. She knew what Felix meant, even if she didn’t remember his name. 

 

    “He was ill, and thus on borrowed time anyhow.” He would not be like Alexius. He would accept that death had its time, just like everything else. 

 

    “That doesn’t mean you can’t regret his death,” Kelasi replied, as though he didn’t understand that. He regretted Alexius pushing this hard, regretted that Felix couldn’t spend his last days with people who loved him instead of playing politics. 

 

    “I know. Felix used to sneak me treats from the kitchens when I was working late in his father’s study. “Don’t get into trouble on my behalf,” I’d tell him. “I like trouble,” he’d say. Tevinter could use more mages like him, those who put the good of others above themselves.” He can hear the fondness he uses to speak of Felix, and expects her to ask if they were involved. Everyone does, once they know he likes men. 

 

    “You make it sound like he was a better person than you,” she said instead. It was that normal to her for him to have affection for men? Even though she knew he was interested in them? This was a very strange country. 

 

    “What a mad thing to say. Few people are better than I am.” Because it was more comfortable than whatever he was feeling. She just looked at him. Really looked at him, saw what he was doing, and he caved. “Very well, a better person, clearly, not nearly as handsome.” He couldn’t leave it entirely alone without telling her that he appreciated her though. “Thankfully, Felix wasn’t the only decent sort kicking around Thedas.” Another pause, because she was terrible at taking compliments. “And thank you, for what you did for Alexius. Maybe he’ll learn that there’s justice in what he’s doing. Not today, but someday. I hope so.” 

 

    “I didn’t do it entirely for you, or him, or the mages. I want the Inquisition to be fair. We’re putting ourselves in a position where we are almost a nation. I want us to do better than one. People here do their duty, and I want that to be the example.” She sounded passionate, more than she did about almost anything else. He admired that sort of drive, admired more when someone acted on it. 

 

**. . .**

 

He and Krem were settled into a room in the keep two weeks after Alexius was judged. It wasn’t much bigger than the room they shared at the inn, but it was theirs. Dorian had a small shelf for books, Krem a small rack for weapons and armor. There was just enough room left to store sewing supplies, for when Krem wanted something more soothing to occupy his hands. They’d settled into a routine, going to bed at the same time to stay warm. Krem was later than usual tonight. Dorian was embarrassed to admit how anxious it made him, even so long after Redcliffe. 

 

   The door creaked open, and Dorian felt himself relax. Krem smelled faintly of something musky Dorian couldn’t identify, as well as smoke and alcohol. He hadn’t been in danger, but getting a drink at the tavern. Krem started taking off his armor, and Dorian felt his heart pound. Even when he didn’t look, it still heated him. He couldn’t help but berate his traitor heart for that. They’d been living together in small quarters for six months now, he should be used to this. 

 

    Some more sounds of cloth ruffling in the dark room, a shuffle of feet used to stealth, and the blanket on their bed lifted up. Warmth spread over Dorian, and he longed to curl up to Krem. The library was freezing, always, and it felt like he never had enough warmth for himself, let alone a bed. Even as he told himself it was more noble to be cold and to not play with Krem’s heart, he felt Krem wrap around him. Dorian couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. 

 

    “How do you stay so warm? I have days where I fear the sun will never come again, and we’ll be frozen solid to this place.” Dorian felt Krem’s laugh in his ear, followed by an agreeable prickle of gooseflesh go down his arms. Traitor arms. 

 

    “The armor is good for that. Plus I managed to sneak some fleece lined padding from the quartermaster back at Haven. It’s too warm for Tevinter, but it’s helpful when I’m going on my fourth hour on the wall.” Krem’s arms wrapped so nicely around his waist, and the only thing that kept Dorian from grinding against him was the idea that this wasn’t forever. “Also I wanted to ask you something.” 

 

     Krem sounded hesitant, the same way he did before he confessed something about his life or desires. “I’ve been doing some work with Bull’s chargers.” Dorian made a noise acknowledging he knew who that was. “And they’re setting up a scouting expedition to go recover what we can from Haven. Would you be alright with me going?” Dorian couldn’t answer at first, finally placing the musky scent Krem was giving off. It was a smell he associated with Iron Bull. The two of them were close, then. It was a stab in his heart that Krem would come back here and hold him like this, but he didn’t really have room to talk with a marriage waiting back home. 

 

     “As long as you stay safe.” What Dorian wanted to say was as long as you come back to me, but that wasn’t anything he had a right to demand. “Does he know about you being a fio man?” 

 

     “That’s the funny thing. He actually came to talk to me, because it’s common among the Qunari. He wanted to make sure that I was alright in service to you because he knows how most Vints feel about it.” There was a smile in his voice, and a joy Dorian hadn’t heard since the carefree time in the bookstore. “And he’s helping me get money back to my father. I know Alvina said she’d take care of it, but I’m getting paid by the Inquisition as well, and Bull is having some couriers get it to him.” 

 

     “That’s good, I’m glad you’re finding more people here than just me.” Dorian hoped his voice didn’t sound as brittle as it felt. “Do you know when you expect to be back?” Not too long, he hoped. Krem was his light here, and he would miss his friend very dearly. The warmth, too. 

 

    “Bull is hoping for no more than two weeks, though he’s requesting another seven days worth of provisions. In case it takes us longer than expected.” Krem’s voice is quiet, and Dorian doesn’t blame him. The prospect of going back to Haven made his skin crawl, and he was glad it wouldn’t be part of his duties. “We’ll head out the day after tomorrow.” Krem yawned, and his voice was starting to fade the way it did before he fell asleep. It never took him long. 

 

    “Alright,” Dorian said, resting his hands over Krem’s on his waist. “I hope it goes well, and I’ll miss you, but it sounds like you’re finding a place here.” 

 

    “You sure Alvina won’t be mad? She told me to look after you.” Krem had so few people in his life he clearly hated to disappoint any of them, even if it would take a month to get back to them. 

 

    “I think the Inquisitor and all of the troops of the Inquisition will keep me safe here. If I need to go out, Kelasi and Cassandra will keep me safe.” Dorian didn’t expect a response from Krem beyond the soft snoring he heard. Between the soft noise and the warmth, he would usually fall asleep quickly, but he wanted to press the memories of Krem’s arms into his skin before he lost them forever. 

 

**. . .**

 

     Even without Krem around, he was never bored in Skyhold. It became something of a game to count all of the fights he could overhear from the library. When he didn’t hear them, he could usually overhear gossip of some sort, whether from Leliana above him or the people who came to him looking for a specific bit of knowledge. It was a wonder anything got done with all of the fighting, whether it was Varric and Cassandra or Solas and Vivienne.

 

   He might not have been bored, but the marks under his eyes seemed more like bruises than a sign of his lack of sleep. Bed was cold, even if he warmed it up with braziers. There was no one to cuddle with him at night, and he missed it, even as he felt terribly guilty for doing so. It made him want to avoid fights, and left him more content than ever with his library. Books would make it better, one way or another. 

 

    Kelasi approached him one day, a slight look of concern on her face. She’d noticed the circles, even if she was tactful enough that she wouldn’t say anything about them. The latest blow up he’d heard about was between Varric and Cassandra, over whether or not he was in the right to hide where Hawke was from her. Personally, Dorian was with Varric. If someone tried to interrogate him about where Krem was, he would keep his mouth shut or die trying. 

 

    “I have a favor to ask,” she opened, and that was not where Dorian was expecting her to start. “I’m sure you’ve heard about Varric and Cassandra. We’re trying to track down Hawke’s warden friend, but we’ve gotten a lot of reports of strange magic and turmoil in Crestwood. I was hoping you would be willing to join me. We might be gone longer than Krem, so I understand if you don’t want to.” Dorian paused to consider. It meant a lot that she asked, instead of demanding. It meant more that she took his bond with Krem seriously. 

 

    “I get the sense that there’s another reason you’re asking me to come with you,” he said gently. With as frustrated as she looked, it couldn’t just be strange magic. Solas would no doubt be the most experienced, Vivienne would know more defensive spells. But as far as he knew, she preferred his company over either of them. 

 

    “Varric and Cassandra are insufferable. They’re both wanting to go with me to meet Loghain, but neither wants the other to go. I’m fine with taking both of them, but I just want someone who won’t be caught in the middle of… Whatever it is they’re doing.” Kelasi sounded amazingly done with the whole situation, and he couldn’t blame her. 

 

     “I can’t imagine that it will be more tense than some of my family dinners. I can’t promise to defuse anything, but I can keep you company and provide the same charming conversation I always do when we’re out and about.” The smile on his face came easily. Even if he didn’t have Krem, he had a friend. It was good to be reminded of that, even if his friend wanted awkward favors like getting in between two people who were having a fight. 

 

    “Before you say yes. Crestwood has been covered in rains and water. We’ve gotten a report of a glowing green rift under it. There’s going to be lots of mud, uncomfortable fights, dealing with ungrateful people… In short, it’ll be just like the Hinterlands but wetter. I just don’t want you to resent me for not telling you what it will be like.” Kelasi was looking at him with pleading eyes, all of her words aside. She wanted him there, and who was he to resist a friend in need? 

 

     “I appreciate your honesty. I’ll just hope that the mighty infrastructure of the Inquisition can provide us with dry clothes now and then.” He was only half joking. He suspected that Josephine could manage to have them clothed for court within hours of leaving a swamp. She worked scary miracles like that. 

 

    “Thank you, very much,” Kelasi said, relief radiating from every part of her being as she headed out, probably to help arrange travel. He headed upstairs to Leliana, to get reports of the area. When she gave him what she could, he headed back downstairs to do some research of the local history. It never hurt to be prepared. 

 

**. . .**

     Crestwood was exactly as miserable as it was described. The rain poured down, clouds in the sky blocking any hope of there being sun. Water flowed through the camp, dampening everything, until dryness was nothing more than a memory. Even Scout Harding looked uncomfortable, and he didn’t realize that was possible. She was always cheerful, never a hair out of place, but the relentless downpour was too much for even her. 

 

    It didn’t get better on the road, only creepier. The torchers were intermittent, smoking heavily in the damp. The intermittent light was eerie, only emphasized by the strange glow coming off of the lake. Goosebumps started up his arms, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of the surroundings or the wet. Ahead of them were two Wardens fighting some corpses, clearly from the lake. It didn’t take their group long to finish them off, and the wardens begged them to stay and help. They had more pressing matters to attend to, though it clearly hurt them to be on their way. 

 

     “I suppose they were looking for Hawke’s friend?” Dorian asked under his breath as the wardens walked away. 

 

     “Probably. I hope he’s good at evasion,” Kelasi replied. 

 

     “Don’t worry, if Hawke is good at anything it’s evading authorities trying to arrest him,” Varric added. Cassandra made a disgusted noise, but Dorian couldn’t help giggling. The continued following the road  up to the town, encountering two guards fighting off another round of corpses. It took exactly three seconds for Kelasi to completely demolish them, but he could still hear the guards talking about how lucky they were to not lose anyone. 

 

     No wonder the Inquisition needed to step in to maintain order, if village guards couldn’t handle something as small as corpses. It wouldn’t happen in Tevinter. Dorian sighed as he realized how untrue that was. It wouldn’t happen in Tevinter if the Magisterium decided it was worth it, and it might not be worth it for them if the only people involved were in a tiny village with nothing of value to save. 

 

     He reached that depressing note as Kelasi stepped inside one of the houses because she could hear someone fretting. The rest of them stood outside because the house was small, and they could hear the conversation. He was worried about his lady friend who kept a house a ways out from Crestwood, and wanted Kelasi to check up on her. Of course she agreed, because no problem was too small for her to solve. 

 

    The next stop was the mayor’s house, to talk to him about how to get to the rift in the lake. Another small house, so they waited outside again as Kelasi talked to them. The door was thin for being a house of such importance, and they could hear the entire thing. It struck him as fishy that darkspawn figured out how to get to the controls for the dam, and wreck all of it. They were fairly stupid as far as creatures went, and usually left dwellings alone unless they had overwhelming numbers. 

 

     Fishy or not, there were bandits in the keep that would need to be evicted before they could get to the controls, because of course there were. He couldn’t help but wonder if many of the previous, better trained guards had perished during the Blight. That had been years though, so why hadn’t the mayor trained new people? Dorian sighed. If everyone, everywhere did what was right, there would hardly be anything left to do, but it was nice to think about. 

 

     Kelasi came out of the building, and led them to the path that would take them to the keep. The rain seemed to fall more heavily there, and a chill blew up from the lake. Dorian couldn’t help but shiver, and wish he were at Skyhold, in a warm bed, with Krem cuddled up behind him. Though he’d settle for in Skyhold, in a part where the rain couldn’t get to him. 

    It didn’t take long for them to get to the keep. It was a small, shabby thing, with the standards dripping water on to the parapets. It only took two smashes of Cassandra’s shield for the door to burst inward, soaked splinters hitting the ground around them. Bandits poured out, surprisingly well armored, and Cassandra did her best to pull them all to her. She did pretty well, other than the bandits that were on the roof. Kelasi took great pleasure in sniping them down, aiming carefully and using the full draw of her bow. 

 

    Initial wave of bandits down, they headed up the stairs, following the sounds of commotion. None of the bandits were particularly difficult to take out, and they worked their way up another flight of stairs. Now they were on top of the wall, and the leader came charging towards them, bellowing orders. Cassandra ran for him, and Kelasi managed to shoot down one of the bandits with one arrow. They made quick work of the bandits. 

 

     Dorian couldn’t help but think if they left the keep open in its current condition, there would be bandits again soon enough. The village didn’t have enough people, or enough training for the people they did have, in order to protect it. It was more important to protect the village and the people in it, definitely, but there was no need to have the Inquisition down here every other week to kick the people out. Maybe the town wouldn’t mind so much if they just took the keep for the Inquisition, to defend the town against bandits, corpses, dragons, or the mage and templar war. 

 

     “You know,” Dorian started. “I think if we hung the Inquisition banner from the flagpole, the village wouldn’t mind too much.” 

 

     “Alright,” Kelasi replied. “I bet Leliana and Josephine can get this set up as a headquarters for the Inquisition here. Might help us bring order to the area.” They wandered over to the flagpole, and raised the flag. It looked handsome there, flying high above the parapets. It didn’t take long for the novelty to wear off, though, and they headed for a small room with a roof that didn’t leak. “I suspect that Scout Harding will be here shortly, or send a raven, and we can get a team down here for the keep. Are all of you okay with staying here until the team gets here?” 

 

    Dorian could feel his hope of getting back to Krem soon slipping away. But at least there was a roof here, and it wasn’t wet. He saw the point in not leaving until there was a team here, for certain. This might be one of those times where he needed to put his own wants and needs aside, to help take care of the Inquisition. 

 

     “Alright,” Dorian replied, a few beats after Cassandra and Varric gave similar answers. Varric pulled out a deck of cards, and they were in a lively game of wicked grace when a voice called out from below them. 

 

     “Hello!” It was cheerful, and then Kelasi poked her head out of the small room. 

 

     “It’s a bunch of Inquisition scouts,” she told them. “And someone carrying a clipboard.” They all piled out of the room, rushing down the wet stairs as quickly as they could to greet their visitors. 

 

    “I’m Adele, I’m the leader of the base camp we had nearby. I figured with the flag we could move in here and take over?” She smiled at Kelasi hopefully. “It’s raining, and this is a lot better than a tent.”  

 

     “Of course!” Kelasi replied. “We thought it might be a bit of a wait before you could get here, I’m pleased to know that we can get on with what we needed.” There was a smile on her face, and Dorian knew that he had one as well. They could get on with what needed doing, instead of lingering here to make sure bandits didn’t take it over. 

 

    Adele was very efficient, having tables and chairs set up in a matter of moments. Before he could see much more, they were exiting out one of the side doors. It dumped them on a small path near the dam, and Dorian wondered if they really needed to take the keep in order to get to the controls. He sighed. 

 

     It wouldn’t do for them to leave a keep full of bandits this close to a village. You’d think he’d be better at this Inquisition thing by now, considering Kelasi wanted to check in on a naturalist while they were in the middle of making sure a town didn’t get eaten by corpses coming from the rift in the lake. 

 

     They crossed the dam, and headed over to the door. When they opened it, they heard giggling. Two young people were there, clearly at a clandestine meeting. They couldn’t have picked a better place? It was freezing in here, and the roof was leaking if the drips from up above were anything to go by. They were apologizing all over themselves, and Kelasi replied. 

 

     “Couldn’t resist the romance of a decrepit pub I see,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. Dorian about died laughing. 

     “Don’t mind us, just passing through,” he added as they stepped further in, moving through to get to the dam controls. Kelasi smiled at him, making notes of two old recipes in her journal before heading to the turnstile. She grunted, moving it before anyone could offer to help. Personally, Dorian thought Cassandra could have done it faster, but Kelasi was nothing if not independent. 

 

     There was a groaning noise, and the sound of gushing water. They headed outside to watch the water flow out of the lake, revealing a stench he could smell from up here. Rotting people, rotting vegetation. All under rain, that was thinking about lightening. He sighed, and they carefully jumped down the rocks of the lake. 

 

    There was a rift on the bed of the lake, different from a lake in the caves. It didn’t take long to seal it, although they detoured to take out a group of assassins and speak to a spirit of command. She wanted them to kill a rage demon, for reasons he didn’t understand. It didn’t bother him any, because it was where they were going anyway. 

 

    Eventually they made it to the cave. It was freezing inside, somehow managing to be colder than the rain outside. Water was everywhere, making eerie reflections. It dripped, landing on him in large droplets coming off of the stone. It made him shiver more, and he couldn't help but feel that there was something off about the cave. 

 

    Carefully, they followed the trail around. Someone was using it to store caches of goods, that Kelasi grabbed. He couldn’t blame her, because anyone who kept stuff here was likely less than legitimate. There were corpses in the cave, massive pockets of them, all grouped together. Too many to just be people that took shelter in the tunnels, and the odd feeling he had about the mayor got stronger. 

 

     Eventually, they moved out of the creepy section of the cave into dwarven ruins. They were still lit up, and he couldn’t help but admire them. Amazing that the lighting would last this long, even with rain, corpses, demons, and everything else here. He admired the dwarves the same way he admired Tevinter. A long lived form of people, who preserved their history as best they could. It made him feel more comfortable, even if the hairs on the back of his neck were still standing up by the time they found the rift. 

 

     It was off to the side in a huge room, spewing demons and corpses. It was larger than rifts usually were. Maybe it was something in the air here, or the big space that would accommodate it. Either way, it took longer than usual to close it. On most rifts, he didn’t take any hits because of Cassandra’s battle horn, but he was hurting by the end of closing this rift. There was a gash above his eyebrow, and the despair demon managed to freeze his knee.  

 

     He limped out of the dwarven ruins. They were wider than he was expecting, and he leaned on his staff for support. Even Cassandra had a few cuts and bruises, which he didn’t expect. She usually used her shield to great effect, and between that and the horn, she was never hurt. She took it better than he did, walking normally as if there wasn’t a purple bruise on her cheek. 

 

     Eventually, they made it to a ladder, which then led to another ladder, which led to a painted gate with a lever. Kelasi pulled the lever, and the door swung open. They stepped out of the cave into a completely different world. The sun was shining, reflecting off of the golden yellow sands. There were grasses, and druffalo grazing. Even some flowers, no doubt watered by all of the rain. He took a deep breath, and he was warm for the first time since they got here. 

 

     The image was ruined by a rift in front of them, but he felt up for it because he was warm. This rift was a regular size, and Kelasi managed to shoot down two of the demons before they were anywhere near it. Cassandra sounded her horn, and it was time to dispel demons trying to come through the rift. Two more wraiths, and Kelasi sealed it. 

 

    That left them more than able to continue on their way, stopping to set up a camp and grab healing potions. They all felt better after that, more able to handle the up and down of the hills so common in this area. Hawke was waiting for them outside a cave, and Varric stepped forward to get a hug. When they got to the end of the cave, Loghain stepped forward, holding a sword to Kelasi’s neck. Thankfully, before anyone needed to do anything, Hawke was with them.

     “It’s alright, Loghain, it’s just me with the Inquisitor.” Hawke looked nervous until Loghain stood down, and that made Dorian more than a little nervous. Just who was this person? 

 

    “Loghain?  _ The _ Loghain?” Kelasi asked. It might be a Ferelden thing then, if Kelasi knew who he was so quickly. 

 

    “Yes. Loghain, the traitor Teryn. I’ve heard all of the names in my ten years with the wardens, believe me. If we can get down to business?” He sounded impatient, and Dorian didn’t blame him. He would be impatient with that level of gossip. Heck, he WAS that impatient with the gossip that followed him around. 

 

    “Alright. What’s going on with the Wardens?” Kelasi asked him. 

 

    “All of the Wardens in Orlais started experiencing the Calling, and they are trying to figure out who would solve the next Blight if all of the Wardens go down to the deep roads, to give themselves over while killing as many darkspawn as they can.” Loghain sounded annoyed with all of this. “Sometimes even I catch myself humming the sound of it under my breath. At least I’ve got more sense than Clarel, the Warden commander who is planning a blood magic ritual to attempt to… I’m not even sure what she’s trying to accomplish.”

 

    “Do you think the Calling has anything to do with Corypheus?” Kelasi was calmer than he felt, that’s for certain. No Grey Wardens? Admittedly, Tevinter would most likely have theirs, but a Blight without them was unthinkable. Even if blood magic was a stupid solution. 

 

    “I believe so. As much as he claims to be a magister from the Chantry tales, he seems to be a darkspawn. I believe it might be something to do with his nature, or some sort of magic he’s performing. It’s hard for me to say. I’ve never quite fit in with all of them, though that’s a good thing right about now.” This was a man with a keen sense of duty, if he bore being ostracized for ten years. How did someone survive that way? He supposed that he survived by burying himself with books, but he didn’t need to trust anyone in combat. It must be incredibly lonely. “I don’t know much, but I do know that the wardens that remain are gathering in the Western Approach to prepare themselves.” 

 

     “Thank you for your time. A few of your companions were looking for you, so be careful,” Kelasi told him in the same tone that was usually reserved for children. Of course she would try to nurture a traitor. 

 

     “Thank you, I’ll do my best. I don’t want to kill them, because they’re good men who have been given bad orders.” He looked relieved to be sharing this with someone, and to no longer be standing alone against blood magic and his comrades of ten years. 

 

     “I have to consult with my advisors back at Skyhold. You’re welcome there, if you need a place. Thank you for your time.” Kelasi held her hand out, and they shook. “Let’s get back to Skyhold as fast as we can,” she told their little band, and Dorian didn’t think he’d ever heard something so good. 

 

**. . .**

 

      Dorian was impatient the entire time they were travelling back to Skyhold. Usually he was the first to volunteer to stop for a rest, but he was determined to get back to Krem. It had been three weeks since he last set eyes on the soldier, and he was hoping that Krem would be able to stay at Skyhold for a while. 

 

    Maybe better to hope that Krem would WANT to stay at Skyhold for a while. He didn’t want to cling to Krem if that wasn’t what Krem wanted, and he thought the soldier had been more than understanding about how much Dorian needed to have him close. It was selfish of Dorian to cling, especially when Krem was finding a place with Bull and the Chargers. Even so, he wanted to talk about everything that had gone on, from the mayor to the dwarven ruins. Krem would be proud of his progress in combat, and he appreciated it. 

 

    Come to think of it, the fact that he could travel for longer distances without needing to rest might mean his body was adjusting to this. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, really. This wasn’t something he wanted to do forever, but it was nice to have a body that cooperated with the things he wanted to do . 

 

    It took another four days, but eventually they made it to Skyhold. Dorian was so relieved that they made it. Kelasi was developing a tendency to help everyone between them and their destination. It was winning them plenty of allies for the Inquisition, but he missed his bed, and wanted to sleep on something that wasn’t frozen ground. Krem greeted him at the gates, which was the most welcome thing he could imagine. He untied his pack from the horse, about to lead it to the stables when Kelasi smiled at him and took the reins out of his hands. She shooed him away when he protested, and Krem grab his hand, giving him a big smile. 

 

    “Would you like me to carry your pack for you?” Krem asked, and Dorian couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. 

 

    “That’s alright, I think I’m getting more used to it now. Thank you though,” he told Krem as he couldn’t help but smile in return. It stung when he smelled the musk that was becoming more familiar, but then, Krem was spending time with him right now, and not Iron Bull. “I didn’t need to stop so much. I was trying to rush Kelasi most of the time. She kept stopping to rescue kittens out of trees and hand out blankets.” Dorian smiled at Krem, a faint blush gracing his cheeks. “I felt bad about it, but at the same time, I wanted to get back to see you. How did things go at Haven?” 

 

     Krem started laughing, having spent enough time around Kelasi to realize those were exactly the sort of things she would do. It was hard for him to tell, but it almost seemed like Krem was delighted with the idea that Dorian rushed back to see him. It warmed the part of himself that was jealous. 

 

     “It went fairly well. There were a few red templars roaming around. We managed to recover some supplies that had been left behind, found a few stragglers. Iron Bull runs a tight ship, and everyone made it back here safe earlier than expected.” Krem paused, so he could look at Dorian as they were walking back to their room. “I was hoping you would be here when I got back, and I was excited myself as we were travelling back. It made Bull laugh, a little, to see how excited I was.” Dorian felt the blush on his cheeks deepening, to match the smile on his face. Sometimes it was hard to remember Caidy, and his duties back in Tevinter. 

 

    “I’m going to be very glad to sleep in a bed again, that’s for certain. I’ve had quite enough of the ground for right now.” They descended into the basement, heading for their small room. “Kelasi asked me if I wanted to accompany her and Cassandra to help find the missing seekers and I turned her down. I need a rest, I think. And I miss my library, I’m sure it’s gone to shambles without me.” Krem opened the door, looking down at the floor and glancing up at Dorian. 

 

    “It’s not the only thing that’s been in shambles,” Krem replied, his cheeks a burning red. It took Dorian a moment to realize exactly what Krem meant. “Bull’s been kidnapping me for games of wicked grace, and trying to teach me more combat moves in an effort to cheer me up. As a last resort, he stuffed me full of Qunari liquor. It was… Certainly something. I didn’t enjoy it very much, or the hangover the next morning. After that, he mostly gave up and I’ve been spending my evenings sewing. I made you something,” Krem told him as he kneeled by one of the containers in his sewing corner. He pulled out a beautiful cloak with a hood, lined with fur. “I treated the canvas with wax, so it should shed rain well, and I know you’ve been cold in the frozen south.” Dorian could feel himself choking up. No one had ever given him something this thoughtful. Usually, he got books. Not even books he was interested in, or would enjoy reading. Just books, which sat in what was supposedly a place of honor on his shelves. The books he loved, he didn’t want anyone to see, though he could find them. 

 

    “Krem, this must have taken hours. How did you finish it in all that time?” Dorian couldn’t help but reach out to touch it. It was a beautiful silvery blue, something that reminded him of dawn light. 

 

    “I’ve been working on it nonstop for the past three weeks. I’m getting nagged about the amount of candles I’ve been going through.” Krem’s face steadily reddened. “I haven’t been sleeping well without you.” 

 

    “I wish I could say the same, but you know how I get when I’m travelling,” Dorian replied, hating himself slightly. Krem shared something that made him feel vulnerable, if the blushing was anything to go by, and all he had were jokes. Much to his relief, Krem smiled. 

 

     “Yeah, you were always extra snuggly the nights on the road. Some nights I would wake up with you under my share of the furs and yours. Always stayed warmer that way,” Krem told him fondly. Now it was Dorian’s turn to blush. Not that he remembered any of this, so he’d probably been doing it in his sleep, but still. Apparently he went after what he wanted in his sleep, even if he wouldn’t while awake. Krem looked alarmed when he didn’t say anything for a few moments. “I hope that was alright. I didn’t mind, I thought it was cute. Besides, warmer that way.” Krem looked pained, and Dorian couldn’t help but smile. 

 

    “No, I don’t mind. I’m just mortified that when I was sleeping I couldn’t respect the boundaries I was trying to set for myself. I’m worried I’ve made things muddled between us, that I’m not letting you live your life and that you being attached to me is hard on you, especially with as clingy as I’ve been after Kelasi and I got back from the alternate time.” Dorian was staring at his feet now, unwilling to look Krem in the eye as he admitted the shames he carried around from day to day. 

 

    “I don’t mind. I never mind.” Krem stepped forward and gently lifted his chin. “I will take whatever you want to give me, and I’ll be happy with it. I’m not missing out on my life staying with you, I’m getting to live it. I’ve never seen anything so surprising as a Magister who cares, and I want to be a part of the changes you create. You’re a good man, and one of the few that I’ve met. So I’ll be here.” Krem dropped his chin, and Dorian didn’t know what to do with himself. 

 

    “Thank you,” was all he managed to say before wrapping Krem in a hug. He had done nothing to deserve a friend this wonderful, but he was going to try to do more. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My roommates have been awful this month, and the angrier I get the more I write. So... My loss is your gain. Please, read the wonderful and cathartic fruits of my fury and enjoy. I'll try to have the next chapter out around the 27th. We'll see how things go, including my health.

    The only good thing he had to say about the Western Approach was that he was warm, for once. They were in a desert, full of sandstorms, vicious wildlife, Venatori, a high dragon, sulfur hot springs that caused hallucinations, and Harding of all people called it the worst place in the entire world. There were Wardens, too, but no one knew what they were doing, because they hadn’t gotten that far. Considering all of the obstacles, Dorian wasn’t entirely surprised. He sighed as they headed off, Kelasi reading the report on Venatori activity on the way. 

 

    It didn’t take long for them to reach the first rift. About as long as Dorian realized he was going to spend his time here over warm, rather than comfortable. It was full of wraiths, at least, though one rage demon from the second wave made the heat more unbearable. A meaty smell was also reaching them, similar to the smell of Crestwood’s drained lake. Rotting things, although it smelled warmer than anything Crestwood had to offer. 

 

    Nothing improved when they reached the source of the smell. There were barred carts, full of bodies that had seen better days. He tried not to look at them too closely, though a sinking feeling hit him when Kelasi picked up a journal with a familiar crest on the cover. This was what the Venatori were up to, then. There wasn’t much evidence to what caused all of these people to become bodies, but he could hear red lyrium humming. It was faint, but there, and he was only too happy to start a pyre for the bodies. 

 

    “I’m not sure precisely what sort of experiments, but they were happening in a cave over there. I’d like to learn what the Venatori were doing here.” Kelasi’s eyes were watering from the stink, and her voice wobbled, pride in her ability to handle anything forcing her not to throw up or retch. 

 

   “Alright. It looks like they were working out of the cave over there,” Dorian told her as he used magic to pull planks in place, no doubt in the same manner the Venatori used to hide the entrance. Krem was the first up, his dexterity making it easy for him to dance along the planks. Cassandra followed, looking uneasily down at the wood under her feet. Dorian after, and Kelasi bringing up the rear, her bow strung and an arrow knocked, ready for whatever they encountered. 

 

    Unfortunately, they encountered spiders, glowing and engorged from the red lyrium growing out of the walls. For a moment, he was back in the basement of Redcliffe Castle, watching red lyrium consume the people he cared for. He shook his head, looking at Krem and forcing himself to note Krem’s armor, the concerned smile Krem was shooting him almost before he could even tell anything was wrong. It wasn’t that time, and they were in a cave. Judging by the skittering sounds, there would be spiders any minute. 

 

     Cave spiders were usually awful. They were the size of large dogs, easily big enough to wrap a human in a web later for consumption. Ones with red lyrium growing out of them were even more terrifying. They had a strange magic, red lines of force radiating out from their bodies. After three of them were dead, oozing blood and red lyrium, Kelasi had more time to search the room. Cassandra went about destroying the cluster of red lyrium in the middle of the room, and Dorian tired to study any notes that were around. When he found the log of what had been done here, his blood boiled. 

 

    “They’ve been murdering the tranquil, and bathing their skulls in red lyrium. For some reason, the skulls help them find those strange shards we’ve been collecting. They weren’t even sure of the purpose of the shards, but they followed some archaic ritual done before there were even Darkspawn, in the hopes it would give them more power.” Dorian didn’t realize how loud he was until Krem was resting a hand on his shoulder. 

 

   “I know. It was atrocious, and the tranquil got left behind when the mages fled for rebellion. We were all hoping they were somewhere safe, and got left out of the war. All we can do now is advocate for them, and make sure the Venatori never benefit from the knowledge they were trying to gain.” Kelasi wasn’t touching him, because she she didn’t want to get between him and Krem, but she would be, if Krem wasn’t there. 

 

    “Alright,” Dorian replied. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to get out of here.” He shuddered, ready to leave the place that smelled like blighted blood and red lyrium. He kept going back and forth between here and the time they prevented, the smell that defined the castle for him making it harder to leave it. 

 

    “That’s fine, we’ve got plenty of things to get done,” Kelasi replied, and they all headed out of the cave, into fresh air and sunlight. Well, as fresh as it could be when it was boiling and full of sulfur. Sulfur didn’t have any bad memories, and Krem stayed nearby, squeezing his hand in between being attacked by phoenixes and other wildlife. 

 

    The road to where they expected to find the wardens went in a similar pattern. Phoenixes, picking up supplies to drop of with a dragon researcher, setting up camps, hyenas, closing rifts, and wishing desperately that he could wear less clothing and still be decent. How much water could one human go through? The fact that it wasn’t just going out of him as quickly worried him. He was grateful for the Inquisition, because they got him all of the salt he needed. It made it less lethal, but they couldn’t make it more comfortable. 

 

    What he wanted was to race to reports of the Wardens, and get out of this desert as quickly as possible. That wasn’t likely with Kelasi. Of course they needed to set up Inquisition patrols. Of course they needed to make sure those patrols stayed as safe as possible by killing off swaths of vicious wildlife. Of course all of the rifts between here and Tevinter needed to be sealed, and any demons remaining slain. There would be order in this hell hole, even if he didn’t think it was worth all of the sweat. Why did some place this hot even deserve order? 

 

    Then he thought about all of the people that needed to come through here for trade routes. Not often, because it was so hot it was easier to go around much of the time. Then there were tribes that used to be peaceful. The Inquisition was already starting to draw up treaties for negotiations for the desert natives, pledging help against demons and raiders in exchange for routes that caravans could take without running out of water. Peace brought them that, peace, and the sweat of setting up a place for the Inquisition to exist. It had a purpose, and he understood that, and even admired it. It was just difficult to keep in mind when he slept on sand, freezing at night and being boiled alive during the day. 

 

    Even with Krem here, so he wouldn’t have to miss his friend, it was miserable. Krem was consistently sweaty under his armor, so their tent smelled rather strong. Baths were few and far between, because water was precious. It didn’t stop him from cuddling all the time, but it was a deterrent. It was cold enough at night that sometimes he was tempted, but often they needed to move then so they wouldn’t have to sweat so much. 

 

    Talking was effort he couldn’t afford, even with his new endurance, so he spent most of the time lonely. Krem would smile at him sometimes when he felt especially low, or squeeze his hand. Someday they could go back to Skyhold, in their freezing bedroom. That sounded nice right about now. 

 

    After a week of this, they finally got word on Loghain’s location. They headed to the western edge, on the border of the canyon. An arch led to a broken down courtyard, and Dorian could see the remnants of a tower overlooking the canyon. He wasn’t sure what it was there for, until he realized that in myths, darkspawn came out of underground places. Gryphons were on the parapets, with well tended grey warden banners. The wizard they were coming here to confront must have chosen it for that very reason. The fade felt thin here, and it made him shiver. 

 

    “I’m glad you made it Inquisitor,” Loghain told Kelasi in a voice pitched low. “I fear they’ve already started the ritual.” 

 

    “It has to be blood magic,” Hawke added. “I hope we can stop them before more people get hurt. You take point, I’ll guard your backs.” They all gathered up and headed through the arch, to find a group of Grey Wardens. One of them was incredibly nervous, holding up his hands. 

 

    “Wait…. No.” He backed up as far as he could, turning to look up when the mage above him spoke. 

 

    “Warden-Commander Clarel’s orders were clear.” He wasn’t holding a staff, but Dorian could feel the fade warping around him, along with the Tevinter look of his clothes. 

 

    “This is wrong,” the warden tried to argue. He could’ve saved his breath. It wouldn’t get him anywhere. 

 

    “Remember your oath: in war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death…” The mage trailed off as another Grey Warden approached the skittish one. 

 

    “I’m sorry,” he said as his comrade turned into his blade. 

 

    “Sacrifice,” the wizard finished, pleased with all of the blood hitting the floor. The fade shivered, a small green tear forming that released a rage demon. “Good. Now bind it to your will, just as I showed you.” A green flare from the warden’s hand, and the rage demon seemed to bow in front of the warden. The mage’s hand turned red, and Dorian’s gut churned. The red glow was echoed in the warden’s eyes as he walked to the side of the bridge. “Inquisitor,” the mage greeted them. “What an unexpected pleasure. Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, at your service. 

 

    “You’re no warden, mage,” Loghain told him. 

 

    “But you are.” There was an audible sigh. “The one Clarel let slip. And you found the Inquisitor, and came to stop me. Shall we see how that goes?” 

 

    “Wardens! This man is lying to you. He serves an ancient Tevinter magister who wants to unleash a Blight.” Kelasi’s voice rang true, echoing off the stones around them. Dorian didn’t think it would matter, the way the Wardens hadn’t moved. Their eyes glowed red, demons obediently in front of them. 

 

    “That’s a very serious accusation,” Livius said in mock surprise, eyebrows going up his face. “Let’s see what the warden’s think.” He was giddy now, and raised is right arm. “Wardens, hands up.” All of the wardens raised their hand. “Hands down,” and back down the hands went. 

 

    “Corypheus controls them,” Loghain told the Inquisitor. Livius interjected again. 

 

    “They did this to themselves. You see, the Calling had the Wardens terrified. They looked everywhere for help.” Livius was enjoying the show, enjoying all of the power in his hands. He was everything wrong with the Imperium, and Dorian so wanted to punish him for it. 

 

    “In desperation, they turned to the Imperium,” Loghain said, a resigned tone in his voice. He might not feel much loyalty to the Wardens, for how they treated him, but he was loyal to the cause, if nothing else. 

 

    “Yes. And since it was my master who put the calling into their little heads, we in the Venatori were prepared.” He smirked, hand going up to his chin. “I went to Clarel, full of sympathy, and together, we came up with a plan… Raise a demon army, march into the deep roads, and kill the Old Gods, before they wake.” 

 

    “We’ve had a plan in place,” Kelasi retorted. “We knew about the demon army and know how best to stop it.” This was the first time he was hearing about it, but it wouldn’t surprise him to know the advisors had a plan. Unless she was bluffing. That was less comforting. 

 

    “So you knew about the demon army? Here we are then.” He seemed startled, as though believing it impossible for the Inquisition to be on to his plans. Not that it stopped him from gloating some more. “Sadly for the wardens, the binding ritual I taught their mages has a side effect. They’re now my master’s slaves.” He started pacing back and forth at the top of the small staircase. “This was a test. Once the rest of the wardens complete the ritual, the army will conquer Thedas.”

 

    “Corypheus made the Wardens do this?” Kelasi asked, horror in her voice. Who would try to do such a thing, in the only thing standing between Thedas and eradication? Did none of these people read history books about what happened before the Wardens were founded? Thedas was a mess, darkspawn ruining everything that made life worth living. Often even life itself. 

 

    “Ha! Made them? No. Everything you see here? The blood sacrifices to bind the demons? The wardens did it of their own free will. Fear is a very good motivator. And they were very afraid. The grey wardens care about nothing, save stopping blights. They will do anything to accomplish that. You should have seen Clarel agonizing over her decision. The burdens of command, I suppose.” His voice was taunting them, and grating. Dorian hated this man, hated the Venatori. Hated the idea that someone would dangle hope in front of the Grey Wardens, those who gave their lives to make Thedas a better place. 

 

    “I’ve heard enough.” Kelasi’s voice echoed off the stones around them. “Release the Wardens, and surrender.” 

 

    “I don’t think so. Corypheus told me how to handle you.” He reached his hand out, Kelasi’s hand flailing green. “That mark you bear? The anchor that lets you pass safely through the veil? You stole that from my master. He’s been forced to seek other ways to access the fade. When I bring him your head, his gratitude will be…” Kelasi jerked her hand forward, tumbling the arrogant mage down the steps. There was a crack, and the slight gap in the fade that allowed demons out sealed. “Kill them,” Livius sad as he limped away. Demons  and wardens converged on them, and the fight was on. 

 

    It took less time than he thought it would. His ice magic was especially effective against rage demons, especially when Cassandra kept the demons off of them. Krem joined her, grappling them back and forth and forming a shield wall in front of them. Because of her stature, Kelasi could duck below to shoot arrows, landing those astonishing hits she always seemed to get. Cassandra and Krem both had a few gashes and bruises afterwards, things both of them shrugged off. He was out of breath, but otherwise unhurt. It was handy to have a seeker to take care of rogue warden mages. 

 

    “So. That went well,” Hawke told them as he walked up. 

 

    “As you feared, the mages who completed the ritual are under the thrall of Corypheus.” Somehow Loghain put enough malice into Corypheus’ name to make Dorian feel it. Not that he blamed the man. If he worked on something for ten years, he’d be bitter at someone dashing it to ruins. 

 

    And the warden warriors?” Hawke looked up to Kelasi, her eyes full of hope. She shook her head as an awkward pause fell around the group. “Of course, it’s not real blood magic until someone gets sacrificed.” 

 

    “Erimond lied to the Wardens. They were trying to prevent future Blights.” Kelasi would have unique insight into the darkspawn, he supposed. He wasn’t sure if she grew up on the surface, or if she’d lived underground at any point, but he knew how difficult the darkspawn were for the dwarves. If anything could end that threat forever, she would probably do it. Even if it meant sacrificing people. It would save more in the long run, and dwarves could go back to having a more expanded culture and system of cities underground. Maybe with more room, they wouldn’t feel the need to preserve the dwarven culture to the point of having a caste system. 

 

    “With blood magic and human sacrifice,” Hawke retorted. Dorian agreed with that part. Blood magic wasn’t a way to solve any problem, no matter how dire it seemed. Especially to the point of taking a life. 

 

    “Despite their lack of wisdom, they acted out of necessity.” Loghain’s voice was calm. He was one of the living few who had seen a real blight, fought an actual archdemon. 

 

    “Everyone has a story they tell themselves to justify bad decisions… And it never matters. In the end, you are always alone in your actions.”  Hawked crossed his arms, mage staff firmly across his back. Loghain just sighed, and turned back to Kelasi. 

 

    “In the direction Erimond fled, the only structure of note is an abandoned Warden fortress. Adamant. I suspect we’ll find the Wardens there. I suppose it’s fortunate a friend once gave me some old maps.” There was a fondness in Loghain’s voice, tinged with a hint of bitterness. He couldn’t be talking about the hero of Ferelden, could he? Would he really refer to the person who sentenced him to the Grey Wardens as a friend? 

 

    “Good thinking,” Kelasi added. 

 

    “The Warden and I will scout out the Grey Warden forces at Adamant, and make sure they’re there. We’ll meet you back at Skyhold.” 

 

    “Good luck,” Kelasi told them as she nodded a dismissal. They spent a few more minutes hunting around the ruins for evidence of the Grey Wardens, and anything they could take back to Blackwall. There wasn’t much, and Kelasi stood under the arch and surveyed the western approach. “You know… I was going to spend some more time making this place habitable. But I think we got all of the rifts and I think a demon army is a little more urgent than anything else we can do here.” She was trying to hide a smile, and it tugged at the corners of her eyes. “I’m guessing no one would complain about heading back to Skyhold earlier than planned?” 

 

    “No,” replied all of them, simultaneously. Even Cassandra, which surprised him. Until he spotted the stains on her skin. She was sweating enough that the dye from her armor was leaching into her skin. He’d want to be done with that as well. They headed out of the desert, not ready to mount up until after they’d left. No sense taxing mounts. It would be another week before they got back, even when Kelasi was rushing, but it was a reasonable temperature. He was starting to see the appeal to being cold, after all of that time in a desert. 

 

**. . .**

 

    The journey to Adamant was endless, and everyone was on edge. No one looked forward to the bloody battle this would be, and the seemingly endless journey made it worse. There was a hard knot in his stomach, and a guilty feeling he couldn’t shake. He and the Inquisitor would get to stand back while all of the soldiers did the dangerous work of breaching the keep. Krem would be with them, along with Cassandra, so that was at least something. He hated looking around at the troops marching with them and not knowing how many of them might get killed in the coming battle. 

 

    It was smooth, if over long, and they got there as quickly as they expected. The trebuchets fired rocks, torches on the walls and in their company lighting the way. Ladders swung up, soldiers climbing them in hopes of beating the demons to the walls. A large battering ram wheeled forward, rocks from the parapets pelting down. He flinched when he saw a soldier fall, a bloody spray where a person had been. Someone moved forward to take their place, and battered the gates as hard as they could. The door blasted inward, and that was their cue. They ran for it, darting inside the crack in the door only to be greeted by a group of demons.

 

    It didn’t take long to dispatch them, a small group of shades. It was harder to make sure he didn’t trip on the gouges in the stone floor, or get too close to the fires that were spreading. Eventually, he just stood in a safe space, throwing spells at demons and trusting Krem, who was in front of him, to keep the demons back. When they were finished, he heard a voice from the walls. 

 

    “Pull back! They’re through!” It sounded like a frantic Warden, unsure of the course of action. 

 

    “Alright, Inquisitor, you have your way in, best make use of it,” Cullen said behind them. Dorian jumped slightly, expecting someone less friendly. Krem rested a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.  “We’ll keep the main host of demons occupied for as long as we can.” 

 

    “Keep the troops as safe as you can, we all have experience fighting demons, and the fewer people we lose the better.” Kelasi’s statement made Cullen’s eyebrows raise. She was the Inquisitor, and the only person who could close rifts. Not to mention that all of the soldiers understood the risks involved, and what would happen if they failed. 

 

    “We will all do what we must, Inquisitor. Warden Loghain will watch your back. Hawke is with our soldiers on the battlements. He’s assisting them until you arrive.” Cullen was interrupted by a scream, followed by a wet noise as a soldier hit the ground. “There’s too much resistance on the walls. Our men on the ladders can’t get a foothold. If you can clear out the enemies on the battlements, we’ll cover your advance.” 

 

    They went through a narrow doorway, Kelasi in the lead as always. There were wardens here, instead of demons, and that made them harder for Dorian to hit. It didn’t matter to him very much that they chose to participate in blood magic. They were good people, who gave up their lives to the cause of keeping people safer. One charged at Krem, polearm extended, and that changed his mind. He dropped a barrier, blasting him with ice magic before putting an explosion effect on another. It detonated, and the two warden archers fell. 

 

    They moved on, two shades waiting for them on a bridge. Kelasi sniped them before he needed to get involved, and they encountered a rock. Someone had written on it, a piece from the chant, and then something rather more vulgar. It made him smile over his heart pounding in his ears. People in their diverse ways of handling things. The bridge led to a door, and this place was rapidly turning into a maze. 

 

    “Stay back! We will not be sacrificed in some insane ritual!” A Warden yelled, although Dorian couldn’t see them over the wall. They crept forward, hoping they wouldn’t be spotted, to see Wardens fighting mages for their lives. Kelasi took out one mage on her own, knocking him down with the power of her shot and finishing him with another. “Brothers, can’t you see this is madness?” the same warden shouted as they dispatched another mage. “Keep your distance!” was the thing they heard as the last mage fell. 

 

    “The Inquisition is here to stop Clarel, not to kill Wardens. If you fall back, you won’t be harmed!” Kelasi replied. Dorian agreed. Anyone who opposed this madness would be a valuable ally later, when things were calmer and they needed Grey Wardens. 

 

    “Alright. My men will stay back. We want no part of this,” he replied, although his voice sounded heavy with sorrow for his fallen comrades. “Deal with Clarel as you must.” An edge of anger entered his voice. 

 

    “Well spoken. I did not look forward to killing more Wardens,” Loghain murmured in Kelasi’s ear, barely loud enough for Dorian to overhear. Kelasi nodded, going about her usual way of systematic searching. She left gear, only taking papers or other documents that might be useful to Leliana later. She was in too much of a hurry to take more time than that, very aware of the men who waited on her to arrive. 

 

    Another mage and some demons waited for them on the other side of the door. Cassandra knocked the mage down, Kelasi landed a lucky shot, and Krem took out the demons with his help. Krem had a gash on his cheek from a shade claw, and Dorian regretted his lack of healing magic. He grabbed a potion from his belt, gently rubbing it on the cut until it faded. There would still be enough left for someone to take for more serious injuries, but now Krem didn’t need to worry about an aching cut in the fight for their lives. It was a small thing, but it made him feel better. 

 

    Two flights of stairs later, and they made it to the battlements. It was a mess, blood staining the stones everywhere they could see. There were straggles, carrying messages up and down to the soldiers on the wall, and they took them down with a ruthless efficiency. Two turns, and there was a group around the ladder they took down, Cassandra bullying the warrior, Krem the archers. He and Kelasi both damaged them down from behind, trying to take as few wounds as they could manage. Lighter armor wasn’t helpful for that, not like the full plate Cassandra wore, or the thick hides Krem did.  

 

    “You can press on ahead, your worship. We’ll clear a path to the rest of our forces.” The Inquisition soldier who had just climbed up spoke in vain, and he seemed to realize that. Kelasi raised an eyebrow, and the soldier just looked sheepish. 

 

    “I don’t leave my men in precarious situations. I appreciate the thought, though. Scouts have been dropping supply caches, and we haven’t been using them. Keep them in mind for your injured comrades.” She snapped a salute, the soldier saluted back, and they were ready to move onto the next siege point. Dorian was glad to help, glad to take some of the burden off of the soldiers fighting for their path, even if combat would never stop being terrifying. 

 

    It didn’t take them long to notice what Cullen was talking about, either. All of the walls were densely packed, filled with a combination of wardens and demons. His heart sank slightly when he heard one of the soldiers call to pull in. The fortress didn’t matter to them nearly as much as Clarel, and their job was only going to get harder. It might change the mind of a more heartless commander, but Dorian knew Kelasi wouldn’t back down from protecting their troops. Not to mention, more troops meant more men to fight the extra troops pulling in. 

 

    “Blood mages! It’s always blood mages!” Hawke yelled out ahead of them. He was surrounded by demons and mages, trying to keep them off of a harried group of Inquisition forces. Hawke’s staff swirled beautifully, shooting fire at the pride demon attempting to back them off the edge. Dorian’s arms were feeling weak as it was, and there was so much more of the fortress left to go. It took a while to clear out these demons, the pride demon making it difficult with its ability to harden its own skin, but eventually they finished. “Inquisitor!” Hawke cried out in joy. “Always a pleasure!” 

 

    “It’s mutual,” Kelasi replied. “Good work. Stay with my forces and see that they survive this.” Of course she would say that. Dorian appreciated it, for the most part, he just wished morals could be slightly less tiring. Or terrifying. 

 

    “I’ll keep the demons off of them as best I can,” Hawke replied as he ran to the next siege point. How did he still have energy for running after all of this? Krem pulled a water flask off of his hip, letting Dorian take a big drink. 

 

   “Not too much now,” Krem warned. “You don’t want to make yourself sick.” Dorian nodded, and handed it over. Krem took some sips as well, Cassandra and Kelasi doing the same thing. They still had their full complement of potions, and none of them were injured, so they ignored the nearby supply cache. Mildly refreshed, they headed off to the next siege point. 

 

    One especially harried soldier was surrounded by three shades, a pride demon making them stronger in the process. Cassandra charged the pride demon, knocking him backward and breaking his focus. Krem charged the shades, Kelasi carefully exploding them away from the soldier. This siege point was harder, and they ended up going through all of their potions. Kelasi grumbled about taking a supply cache away from the troops, but they needed them to make it through to Clarel. 

 

    “Alright,” Dorian eventually said. “That’s all of the siege points. Let’s get moving, men get tired, demons not so much.” His arms were shaking lightly, and Kelasi patted him on the back once or twice. 

 

    “Yes. Our troops have a secure foothold here, let’s go finish this before we lose any more of them.” Even though Kelasi limped slightly, she kept going. Their healing potions could only do so much, and the pride demon had gotten more than one hit on her. She led them on, winding back to the main staircase. They descended, walking through more hallways without encountering anything. It took three more doors, and they bumped into a group of troops and Hawke. 

 

    “How many are left?” one of the soldiers asked. 

 

    “Fewer, thanks to you,” Hawke replied. 

 

    “Hawke saved a lot of lives on the battlements Inquisitor, thank you for lending him to us,” the soldier told Kelasi. Kelasi grinned in reply, and Dorian understood better. 

 

     “Some of the recruits listened to reason. Perhaps Erimond doesn’t have them all,” Loghain said in a tone that managed to convey hope, and the belief that hope was ultimately foolish. Dorian couldn’t blame him. Hope had a tendency to do that. There weren’t any more demons remaining in the halls, before they encountered a large room, a rift in the middle, Clarel and Erimond having a conversation. 

    “Wardens! We are betrayed by the very world we are sworn to protect!” Clarel called out from above them. 

 

    “The Inquisition is already inside, Clarel, we have no time to stand on ceremony,” Erimond retorted. His temper was showing, and Clarel slapped him down for it. 

 

    “These men and women are giving their lives, Magister. That might mean little in Tevinter, but for the Wardens it is a sacred duty.” Her jaw clenched, and it was easy to see against her too thin face. How much had she been worrying for her people, that she looked as though she’d been starved. She turned to one of her colleagues who was moving forward. He looked much like she did, a pronounced jaw, hair that had been shaved to stubble. “It has been many long years, my friend.”  

 

    “Too many, Clarel. If my sword arm can no longer serve the wardens, then my blood will have to do.” He kneeled before her, his beard more pronounced in the strange light. It broke his heart to see, more so when he stood again and Clarel drew her sword. Two matching heads lined up, and she drew a sword that she held up to his throat. 

 

    “It will,” she told him, and there was sorrow in her tone. She closed her eyes, unable to face what she was doing, and slid her sword seamlessly across his throat. He fell, and Kelasi surged forward. 

 

    “Stop them!” Erimond yelled from the parapets. “We must complete the ritual.” 

 

    “Clarel, if you complete that ritual, you’re doing exactly what Erimond wants,” Kelasi yelled back. Dorian was standing close enough to feel her shake, and know how much it was hurting her to watch this and be not quite close enough to do something about it. 

 

    “What, fighting the blight? Keeping the world safe from Darkspawn? Who wouldn’t want that?” Erimond yelled back. To a Grey Warden, that was everything. It was what they gave their lives and sacrificed so much, the thing that made Corypheus truly evil. He was using the best parts of people against themselves. “And yes, the ritual requires blood sacrifice. Hate me for that if you must, but do not hate the Wardens for doing their duty.” 

 

    “We make the sacrifices no one else will. Our warriors die proudly for a world that will never thank them,” Clarel added. There it was again, that duty, that sacrifice. Easy enough to say blood magic is the answer to people who seldom saw the evil behind it. Consenting people gave up blood, and things got done. But there was so much room for things to go wrong, for people to lose themselves. It was why Alexius fought so hard for Tevinter, why his father had those views. 

 

    “And then he takes the mage’s minds, for his master real master: Corypheus,” Loghain added. There was more sorrow in his voice, the same tone that nothing will change. Hope was futile, because people were people, and if there was one thing they were good at, it was having grievous errors in judgement. 

 

    “Corypheus?” Clarel was stunned. “But he’s dead.” 

 

    “These people will say anything to shake your confidence, Clarel,” Erimond jumped in again, getting closer, shoving his face in hers. She rubbed her eyes, clearly strained. When she opened them again, she said what they had been fearing. 

 

    “Bring it through,” she told the other Wardens. They finished the symbols, and a fade rift opened. Kelasi moved forward with Inquisition troops, and the Wardens came forward to meet her. 

 

    “Please,” Hawke begged. “I’ve seen more than my share of blood magic! It’s never worth the cost!” He had, Dorian knew that. Hawke was probably one of the only people here who understood its evils as well as he did. 

 

    “I betrayed the Wardens once, and it cost me everything. Are you mad enough to think you can do it again?” Loghain growled at her, spittle flying from his mouth. The fade rift gave an unsettling roar, and Erimond spoke up again.

 

    “Be ready with the ritual, Clarel. This demon is truly worthy of your strength.”  Back to his flattery. 

 

    “Listen to me! I have no quarrel with the Wardens! I’ve spared those I could. I don’t want to kill you, but you’re being used… and some of you know it, don’t you,” Kelasi replied. 

 

    “The mages who’ve done the ritual? They’re not right. They were my friends, but now they’re like puppets on a string,” one of the Wardens near the front added. 

 

    “You cannot let fear sway your mind, Warden Chernoff,” Clarel replied to the scared Warden. Ever a good leader, trying to show her people that she was choosing the right course, that she had everything in hand and they weren’t going to leave the world to be eaten alive by the next Blight. 

 

    “He’s not afraid, you are. You’re afraid that you ordered all of these brave men and women to die for nothing.” Hawke replied. He was right. She’d already killed one of her oldest friends, and wanted desperately for that to not be in vain. 

 

    “One day, you may be asked to give your lives to stop a blight. Today is not that day,” Loghain added. 

 

    “Clarel, we have come so far. You’re the only one that can do this,” Erimond told her, not invading her space. He was counting on flattery, on his words being more powerful, but they weren’t going to, not judging by the way Clarel looked right now. 

 

    “Perhaps we can test the truth of these charges, to avoid more bloodshed,” Clarel replied, and Dorian breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe this was averted before the worst happened. 

 

    "Or perhaps I should bring in a more reliable ally,” Erimond replied as he thumped his staff into the ground twice. The same archdemon that crushed Haven flew over, blasted its red breath at people on the ground. Everyone scattered, trying to get to cover. “My master thought you might come here, Inquisitor. He sent me this to welcome you,” he added with a smile. Clarel looked stunned. She looked at the body of her friend, and blasted magic at Erimond. “Clarel, wait...” Erimond murmured as she stood over him. She blasted the archdemon with her lightning magic, and it shot red breath back at her, before taking flight. In the cover, Erimond fled, and Clarel moved to pursue him. 

 

    “Help the Inquisitor!” Clarel yelled, running to pursue him, leaving them to face the demons in the courtyard, including a massive pride demon. They had the help of the Wardens, as well as Hawke and Loghain, but it still took them awhile and all of their health potions to get it down. 

 

    They heard screams ahead, and tore off to chase after Clarel. There were clusters of demons they had to fight through, along with the wardens, and the archdemon would blast them with its breath every so often. It singed the hairs on his arms, and was more terrifying than he could imagine. Kelasi tore around a corner, and there they found Clarel.  

 

    “You! You destroyed the Grey Wardens!” Clarel told Erimond as she marched up to him. Her barrier deflected the magic he could throw at her with ease. Dorian remembered being so angry that magic came to him almost without effort. He didn’t envy her position. When Erimond reached the edge of the bridge, and the end of his ability to move backwards, she deflected his magic back at him, knocking him down. She moved to stand over him. He then proceeded to do the stupidest thing he’d ever done, and considering he worked for Corypheus, that was saying a lot. He laughed. 

 

    “You did that to yourself, you stupid bitch,” he told her as he uncurled and attempted to stand. He couldn’t see her furious look, though he was moving to change that. “All I did was dangle a little power before your eyes. And you couldn’t WAIT to get your hands bloody!” Personally, Dorian made it a point to not goad livid mages standing over him, but it was beautiful to watch how angry Clarel got. She blasted him so hard he slid backwards across the stones of the bridge, his spine making a cracking noise as it slid over the stones. His back wasn’t broken, but he was hurting, judging by the way he curled up. “You could have served a new god,” he told her, and she gave the most sensible answer she had that evening. 

 

    “I will never serve the blight,” she said, and Kelasi moved their party closer. Only for the archdemon to land on top of her, picking her up in its mouth before taking off again. It took her, and then flung her onto the stones. She thudded into the dirt, and the archdemon walked over to her. She was bleeding, some of her intestines spilling out onto the ground. “In war, victory…” she said as she rolled on to her stomach and crawled forward, leaving a bloody smear behind her. In peace, vigilance...” She paused long enough to blast a hole in the bridge, dropping the archdemon off into the abyss. The bridge started to crumble under them, and they ran back as quickly as they could. It wasn’t fast enough, as more of the bridge fell. 

 

    Kelasi struggled to right herself, managing to tear a hole in the veil, dropping all of them into the Fade. They wouldn’t hit the ground below them, judging by the way he fell, until he sprung back up, eventually landing on something that was above him before. His feet attached to a stalagmite, and then he thudded to the ground below him, and had to pick himself up. Kelasi was groaning, and in a similar predicament. 

 

    “What happened? Loghain asked. 

 

    “We were falling,” Hawke replied. “If this is the afterlife, the Chantry owes me an apology, this doesn’t look anything like the Maker’s bosom.” Ah, Hawke. Always glib. 

 

    “The first time I entered the fade, it looked like a lovely castle filled with gold and silks. I met a marvelous desire demon, as I recall. We chatted and ate grapes before he attempted to possess me. Perhaps the difference is that we are here physically. This is no one’s dream,” Dorian replied. Wonderful that he actually had some knowledge about the things that were going on. He knew much more about the Fade than he did blood magic. 

 

    “The stories say you walked out of the Fade at Haven. Was it like this?” Hawke asked. Dorian walked over to help Krem stand up, making sure his friend was surviving this new level of strangeness alright. 

 

    “I don’t know. I still can’t remember what happened the last time I did this,” Kelasi replied. She looked nervous, gazing around at all of the odd structures and the water they were standing in. 

 

    “Well,” Hawke replied, “Whatever happened at Haven, we can’t assume we’re safe now.” He walked down the stalactite he was gripped to until he was standing on the same level as the Inquisitor. “That huge demon was right on the other side of that rift Erimond was using, and there could be others.” 

 

    “In the real world, the rift producing the demons was nearby. Can we return through the world through that?” Loghain asked as he was getting himself down off of his own stalactite. 

 

    “It sounds like our best option, Kelasi replied, as she eyeballed a rift ahead of them. “There. Let’s go,” she finished, walking a ways ahead of the water, gathering all of them from their various vantage points. They walked forward, slowly exploring everything. Kelasi was taking even more than their usual care. There was a book she noticed, as well as fears she was starting to discover. It was eerie, seeing all these representations of fear. It was less eerie than what happened next. The Divine was in front of them, and she started talking to them. 

 

    “Impossible,” Loghain said as he breathed out. 

 

    “I greet you, Warden. And you, Champion,”  she said by way of introduction. 

 

    “Divine Justinia? Most holy?” Cassandra asked.

 

    “Cassandra,” she replied. 

 

   “Cassandra, you knew the divine. Is this really her?” Kelasi asked. 

 

    “I… I don’t know. It is said that the spirits of the dead pass through the fade, and sometimes linger. But… We know that spirits lie,” she ended. He’d never seen her look more uncomfortable, she looked torn between embracing the Most Holy and not believing anything she said. 

 

    “It can’t be the divine, it’s got to be a demon,” Loghain added. 

 

    “You think my survival impossible, yet here you stand alive in the Fade yourselves,” she replied. “In truth, proving my existence either way is time you do not have.” 

 

    “How complicated is it to answer a simple question. I’m human, and you are…’ Hawke trailed off. 

 

    “Here to help,” she replied. “You do not remember what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Inquisitor.” 

 

    “No, I don’t,” she replied. 

 

    “The memories you have lost were taken by the demon that serves Corypheus.” The Divine turned to look, so they followed her gaze. “It is the nightmare you forget upon waking. It feeds off memories of fear and darkness, growing fat upon the terror. The false calling that terrified the Wardens into making such grave mistakes? Its work.”  

 

    “Then perhaps I owe this Nightmare a visit,” Loghain growled. 

 

    “You will have your chance brave warden, this place of darkness is its lair,” the Divine (or not) replied. 

 

    “Corypheus seems to have a lot of demons at his disposal. How does he command so many?” Kelasi asked. It did seem strange to him that a demon would so casually serve someone else. It usually required much more effort. 

 

    “I know not how he commands his army of demons. His power may come from the Blight itself. But the Nightmare servers willingly, for Corypheus has brought much terror to this world. He was one of the magisters who unleashed the first Blight upon the world, was he not?” It was eerie to him how she sounded. She spoke with an Orlesian accent, one from a particular region he could almost recognize. She wore the same hat, and spoke with the authority he’d expect from a Divine. “Every child’s cry as the archdemon circles, every dwarf’s whimper in the Deep Roads… The Nightmare has fed well.” 

 

    “Can you help us get out of the fade?” Kelasi asked. 

 

    “That is why I found you. When you entered the Fade at Haven, the demon took a part of you. Before you do anything else, you must recover it.” It would be odd of the Divine to know so much about spirits, demons, and the inner workings of the Fade. “These are your memories, Inquisitor.” Demons spawned behind her, and they went into battle. 

 

    It was mostly wraiths, and they were more than capable of handling those. Kelasi could take one out with one of her spectacular shots. As the demons fell, they dropped glowing green orbs. Kelasi ran around to gather them, strange noises emerging as they were absorbed back into her. When she had them all, Kelasi clutched her head, falling into a memory they all got to witness. 

 

    It was shocking to watch as Grey Wardens held the Divine for Corypheus. He held an orb in one hand, and his voice was chilling as he talked about a sacrifice. He’d never heard Corypheus before, and he would be just as fine if he never did again. The orb was in his hand, until the Divine used Kelasi’s entrance as a distraction. The orb tumbled, rolling to Kelasi’s feet. She made the mistake of picking it up, and the world exploded into green around her as Corypheus dove for the orb.

 

    “So Andraste didn’t bestow her mark upon you. It came from the orb Corypheus used in his  ritual,” Loghain said when they were all back. 

 

    “Corypheus intended to open the Veil, use the Anchor to enter the Fade, and throw open the doors of the Black City,” the most Holy added. “Not for the Old Gods, but for himself. When you disrupted his plan, the orb bestowed the Anchor upon you instead.” 

 

    “Was that everything you wanted me to see?” Kelasi asked. 

 

    “For the time being. You cannot escape the lair of the nightmare until you regain all that it took from you. You have recovered some of yourself, but now it knows you are here. You must make haste. I will prepare the way ahead. 

 

     “Is there a problem Hawke?” Loghain asked in response to Hawke shaking his head.  

 

    “Those were Grey Wardens holding the Divine in that vision,” Hawke spat out. “Their actions led to her death.”

 

    “Corypheus had clearly taken the Warden’s minds. You yourself have seen him do this. In any case, we deal with that after we escape.” Practical as always, even if Loghain was more dismissive than he’d have liked. 

 

    “Oh, I intend to,” Hawke replied. 

 

   “Could that really have been the most holy?” Cassandra wondered. 

 

    “I have no idea. If it’s a spirit, it’s not acting like one. No demon would have been so helpful without asking something in return,” Dorian replied. 

 

   “And the Nightmare? From what she said, I’m more worried about it,” Loghain replied. “After what it did to my fellow Wardens, I hope we can defeat it.” 

 

    They moved on through the area, feet splashing in the water that reflected the eerie stone structures. The open cage full of skulls made him shudder, though it also reminded him of Haven’s little library. These skulls were much larger, more distinctly humanoid. The splashing from everyone echoed, making it difficult to tell where any noises were coming from. Bird song would come through occasionally, along with a singing noise he associated with pure lyrium. Everything here unsettled him. 

 

    Two more shades greeted them as they wound around some stairs, one easily obliterated by Kelasi’s arrow. Just one shot turned one into confetti, and he took care of the other with blasts of magic. Cassandra didn’t have time to run forward before they were dead. Another corner held eerie bird statues, a tower stamped pristinely in metal, and a letter about the Darkspawn. It was a fear everyone in Thedas had, and the presence of more fears didn’t calm him any. Nor did the voice that echoed around them, from everywhere and nowhere. It sounded like Corypheus, which definitely didn’t help. 

 

    “Ah, we have a visitor.” The voice sounded pleased. “Some silly little girl comes to steal the fear I kindly lifted from her shoulders. You should have thanked me and left your fears where it lay, forgotten.” Dorian shivered. He was reminded of teachers at his Circle, who used brutal methods, and then made you thank them for teaching you. One of those teachers was the reason he escaped to drink so often. “You think that pain will make you stronger? What fool filled your mind with such drivel? The only one who grows stronger from your fears is ME.” The last word boomed as they were overwhelmed by demons. “But you are a guest here in my home, so by all means, let me return what you have forgotten.” 

 

     This fear demon didn’t know Kelasi as well as it thought it did. She didn’t care about her own well being. She didn’t fear her memories, or the things that happened to her. She helped people, with whatever she could; her greatest fear was not being able to help. The anchor didn’t bother her. It closed rifts. Demons didn’t bother her. That’s what arrows were for. What was no doubt bothering her right now was the sheer number of people that she cared about who were in range of something that was evil. 

 

    They got the demons down, although Kelasi slipped into the water and scared him for a moment. A skeleton was holding a decayed bouquet of poppies, and they left it near another dream. The air eased somewhat, one less fear for the Nightmare to prey upon. There was another one of those towers, pressed into metal, larger than any forge he knew of. Up more stairs with bird statues, to see a torch. It looked like a distorted person screaming. Why did everything in this place have to be creepy? Did everywhere in the Fade look like this physically?

 

    “What are those things?” Cassandra called out. They looked sort of like spiders? But there was something underneath them that looked like Krem, bleeding out. It made his heart pound, and he stayed as close to Krem as he could without tripping him. 

 

   “What is that?” Hawke asked, seeing a person on fire. They were holding a journal page, apparently a mage. Someone who was so furious with the conditions they were facing that they invited a rage demon to take them, just to see the Templars suffer. Of course it exploded on contact, and Kelasi wanted to go further down that path. Only to hear the echoing voice again. 

 

    “Perhaps I should be afraid, facking the most powerful members of the Inquisition.” It was followed by a laugh that chilled his blood. “After all, Dorian, you have such a great magical gift, and it will never be enough to save the people you love. It wasn’t enough to save Felix, or Alexius, and soon it won’t be enough to save Krem.” That chilling laugh again. 

 

    “It’s alright,” Krem told him as he squeezed Dorian’s shoulder. “You love people, and you let them make their own choices. It’s one of the things that drew me to you, a Magister who values those things. Sometimes those people do things you can’t control, and that doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you a good one.” Krem smiled reassuringly, and Dorian felt himself relax slightly. Krem was the one good thing he had in his life, and he didn’t want to lose it. But it wouldn’t mean anything if he forced Krem to stay safe, to not do anything that might hurt him. 

 

   He was paying attention again after Kelasi finished searching this strange hall of mirrors. There were more metal sculptures, enormous and almost Dwarven. Somehow in the Tevinter style, which made him a little curious. Curious was good. It helped the fear fade somewhat. Krem was staying just as close to him now, and that also helped. Even when wraiths popped up. It was the work of a moment to drop a barrier, and Krem was safe, guarded more with the power of Cassandra’s horn. 

 

    “Your Inquisitor is a fraud, Cassandra. Yet more evidence there is no Maker, that all your “faith” has been for naught.” The voice had lost some of its power with Krem’s words, and there was a smile on Dorian’s face. He could guess what her reaction would be. 

 

    “Die in the Void, demon,” she replied. She sounded calm, and entirely unruffled. Faith was one thing she had an abundant supply of, and Dorian envied her for that. He worried, a lot, about everything. She picked a course, stuck with it, and dealt with whatever consequences that gave her. Enviable, considering he’d spent the last ten years of his life not standing up to his father. After Kelasi grabbed an open book under a dragon statue, they continued on, only for the voice to echo again. 

 

    “Did you think you mattered, Hawke? Did you think anything you ever did mattered? You couldn’t even save your city. How do you expect to strike down a god?” the voice called out as more spiders swarmed them. They looked more like spiders now. Caves being a popular place for them to end up, he fought them a lot. The thought made him giggle, slightly, that the Herald would trek through the dampest, most unpleasant places because she wanted to fight for people.  “Merrill is going to die, just like your family, and everyone you ever cared about.” 

 

    “Well yes. Everyone dies eventually. I do my best to prevent it when I can, but some day, Merrill will, in fact, die.” Hawke had a smile on his face, his usual sense of humor keeping him calm under the strangest circumstances. 

 

    “You know,” Dorian chimed in. “These spiders or whatever we’re fighting seem to be small fears. Perhaps minions of the demon we’re fighting, or little bits left over from what the demon eats. Like crows?” 

 

    “Spiders? I see maggots, crawling in filth,” Cassandra replied. 

 

    “Yes. They seem to look like what you’re afraid of the most,” Dorian replied. He was just glad that with Krem close, the spiders looked like spiders. 

 

    “Well that’s reassuring,” Cassandra replied. Her eyebrows were no doubt raised, and it made him smile again, to realize he knew her well enough to know that. She wasn’t fond of things in her mind, he knew that too.  Even so, she remained incredibly calm in the face of things that made him want to wet himself. 

 

    “And young Krem. The soldier who follows a Magister from Tevinter around like a lost puppy. He doesn’t love you, and one day you’ll wake up only to realize that you’ve spent your life in service of someone who could never truly care about you. You’ll die alone, with a body untouched by the hands of another,” the voice echoed again. Dorian clenched his fists, reminded of the part he played in that by keeping Krem so close. 

 

    “Then that’s how I die. I’ll have lived a life in service of someone who believes in something, believes in change. He cares, and that’s why I’m still here.” Krem was calm, his voice measured. These were clearly things he considered, used to make choices about his life and the things in it. Krem simply squeezed Dorian’s hand, no more ruffled than he started. Another corner, and the Divine was back. 

 

    “The Nightmare is stronger now. It knows you seek escape. With each moment, it grows stronger,” she told them. There was a barrier, more demons, no doubt holding more memories for Kelasi. The demons were dispatched, and she gathered up all of the bits of memory. 

 

    “This is the Breach back at Haven! That’s how we… How I escaped,” Kelasi told them as they witnessed spiders, chasing her up a sheer cliff face. 

 

    “The demons!” Justinia called out. 

 

    “Keep running! Kelasi called back. The Divine screamed, and Kelasi turned to look, the Divine being torn away by spiders. She grabbed the Divine’s hand, tried to help her up a cliff face, only to have her ripped away. 

 

    “Go!” The Divine told her in no uncertain terms. She fell away, and Kelasi turned toward the Breach, dashing through it as quickly as she could. She shook her head as she fell out of the memory. 

 

    “It was you,” she said when her head was clear. “They thought it was Andraste sending me from the fade, but it was the Divine behind me. And then you… She died.” The Divine nodded. 

 

    “Yes,” she told them. 

 

    “So we’ve been following a demon then,” Loghain replied. 

 

    “You don’t say,” Hawke replied, voice full of acid. 

 

    “I am sorry if I disappoint you,” the Divine replied, fading into light. She rose above them, beautiful in whatever form she was in.

 

    “The only thing that’s important right now is getting out of the fade. Whatever you are, you’ve helped us so far,” Kelasi replied. That was a blunt answer, worthy of Cassandra, if Cassandra were not personally involved. Not who or what she was, or what made her, but how to keep her people safe.  

 

    “What we do know is that the mortal divine perished at the temple thanks to grey wardens,” Hawke said while staring at Loghain. His brows were drawn, the mark across his nose crinkling in his rage.  

 

    “Corypheus controlled them, we discussed this already. If the spirit has no further revelations, we should focus on getting back to Adamant alive,” Loghain retorted. He was focused on the same thing Kelasi was, but Dorian couldn’t help but feel like it was different somehow. Kelasi wouldn’t pick fights while her people were still in danger.  

 

    “Assuming that the wardens and their demon army didn’t destroy the inquisition while we were gone,” Hawke shot back, stepping into Loghain’s space. Loghain’s face was also covered in rage as they shouted into each other’s faces. 

 

    “I see. Atrocities are your purview alone? You tore Kirkwall apart and started the mage rebellion,” Loghain spat back. Personally, Dorian thought it was necessary, but Loghain was a person who valued order above all else.  

 

    “To save the lives of innocent mages, not madmen drunk on blood magic. But you’d ignore that because you can’t imagine a world without wardens, even if that’s what we need!” Hawke was snarling, some of his spit no doubt hitting Loghain. It looked uncomfortable. 

 

    “The wardens are a risk. Send them away before they can cause even more trouble,” Cassandra said as she added her opinion to the debate.

 

    “They might still be useful. What if Corypheus conjures another Blight? You never know,” was Dorian’s. Blights were something sane people feared, something he’d read histories about again and again as he was trying to help Felix. Every time the world decided Grey Wardens were something they could live without, another Blight arrived.  

 

    “I’m with Dorian,” Krem added, with another reassuring squeeze on Dorian’s shoulder. 

 

    “This debate can wait until we’re out of danger,” Kelasi replied. Sensible to the last, that one, even as spider squeaks drowned her out. 

 

    “Inquisitor,” Hawke called out, eyes going wide with surprise. The Divine rose up further in golden light. 

    “The nightmare has found us,” the Divine called out before she disappeared again. Hawke and Loghain nodded at one another, noting the swarm of spiders approaching. 

 

    “Form up,” Loghain said. 

 

    “I’m with you,” Hawke replied. Funny how mortal danger sometimes turned men more sensible. The spiders were more pleasant than listening to more bickering, which was saying something considering now they were pools of Blighted blood, Felix suffering trying to stop his father, and an archdemon burning down a library. They were killed quickly enough, and Dorian jumped in to prevent more bickering. 

 

    “I suppose we should follow the Divine. Whatever she is, she is our way out of here.” Krem smiled at Dorian’s words, and Dorian could feel the fear fade away somewhat. They came to a fork in the road, and Kelasi took the path that seemed to have fewer demons. That was his preference as well, though he suspected that she was heading away from the Nightmare. The riddle made in a child’s hand seemed to be leading her this way though, and maybe if they soothed enough of the fears they were finding, the demon would be easier to fight. 

 

    “Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir, the brilliant commander. Pity the one time you tried to rule, you failed so miserably.” The voice was back. Of course it was. “You had to be beaten, humiliated, lest you destroy your own country. You even doomed the Wardens by bringing the Inquisitor down on them. You destroy everything you touch.” Loghain just grunted. 

 

    “Is that all you’ve got? It’s nothing I’ve not said to myself,” Loghain retorted. Dorian could only imagine. The Wardens never treated him as a colleague, and it could be lonely inside your own head. Dorian knew how difficult it was to live with all of the choices you made, how it was possible to go over them again and again. Eventually, he imagined, it was possible to come to terms with them, to know that whatever mistakes you made you could only go forward. 

 

    Kelasi found some tarot cards next to the skeleton, no doubt the answer to the fear in this area. There were gibbering horrors that surrounded them, along with a terror. They defeated them, and Kelasi walked back to place the tarot card near a pot bubbling on a campfire. The air eased somewhat as the cards went down, and there was a gift from a relieved spirit for Kelasi. They headed towards the rift again, passing a dog statue near a mirror, next to a pile of three skulls. This place needed better decorations, because he was tired of the birds and the melted scream statues. The red lyrium broke it up somewhat, but not in a good way. Unless terror and fear of what it represented was good. 

 

    “Do you think you can fight me?” the voice asked. “I am your every fear come to life.” No one responded. Dorian knew he spent a great deal of time confronting his fears. He wasn’t always great at it, but he practiced enough for the things that mattered. Fears were a daily life with this much combat, and he imagined the others felt similar. “I am the veiled hand of Corypheus himself! The demon army you fear? I command it. They are bound all through me!” 

 

    “Ah, so if we banish you, we banish the demons? Thank you, every fear come to life,” she retorted with pure joy in her voice. The demon just roared in reply. There was a slight easing of the air Dorian was used to accompanying defiance, the Nightmare backing away to try and regroup. 

 

    They found themselves at another barrier. Instead of demons, there were more of the spiders. They formed up again, Loghain charging in with Krem and Cassandra, Hawke staying back with him and Kelasi to do as much damage as they could. Loghain was skilled, and interesting to watch now that there was less risk with watching. He fought like he’d been training for it all his life, and he probably had. WIth the spiders gone, the Divine cleared the barrier, rising up to hover above them when it was gone. 

 

    A set of  windy steps led them to an area where there were holes of water mixed in with the land. There were rocks everywhere, in just the wrong places, and the ground seemed to suck in feet and hold on to them. Demons awaited them, because when didn’t demons await them here. At least demons were better than spiders, easier to both face and kill. 

 

    “It’s hard to trust my footing in this place,” Cassandra announced, and Dorian had to agree. There were more tripping hazards here than clear ground. Krem had to steady him once or twice. Kelasi found a small desk, huddled into the rock with a candle. It glowed orange, unlike so many of the other torches in this area. A sword glittered, along with what looked like a joining chalice, and Kelasi showed the page to Loghain, who then passed it around. It was written by one of the first Grey Wardens, struggling to learn how to kill an archdemon. 

 

    More shades greeted them as the area shifted from solid ground to water underneath them, although that wasn’t the eerie part. There was a graveyard, full of headstones. Each one contained the name of one of the Inquisitor’s companions and what they feared the most. It didn’t feel great to look at that headstone with his name on it and have it tell him what he already knew. 

 

    He feared temptation, and that giving into it would ruin the lives of the people he knew. Krem deserved to be treated as more than some slave, gaining favor by serving him well as he was married to Caidy and producing heirs. He couldn’t bring himself to look at any of the others, feeling like that was something so personal it shouldn’t be shared. Krem led Dorian over to his own tombstone, and it felt better with permission. It said indifference, and Dorian knew how much he meant to Krem. 

 

    “So many people don’t care about other people, and that’s what makes it the hardest for people who are different. No one cares enough to make it happen. You do, and that’s why I’m happy to protect you.” Krem pitched his voice low enough that no one could hear, and Dorian couldn’t help but wrap Krem up in a hug. 

 

    Kelasi grabbed a vial of darkspawn blood, bringing it back to the joining chalice. The ground felt like less of a mire, the rocks further apart. It was easy to head back up the winding stair case, conviction that burned low in the gut a gift from this last fear. Things would be alright. They could do this, even if it took sacrifices. People would be saved. A statue Kelasi paused to examine added to this feeling, describing the tradition of burning your screams and your fear away to do what needed to be done.

 

    They took the other fork, a path that wound higher. A patch of red lyrium had a note attached to it, describing its properties. It didn’t make the lyrium less eerie, or its song any more benevolent. Worse, there were a number of pride demons in front of them, large and looming.  

 

    “Fasta vaas, but that’s a big one!” Dorian couldn’t help but exclaim. It seemed even larger than the one Clarel summoned back in Adamant. The first one fell quickly, though the second one slipped in and managed to get a few hits in with its whip. Kelasi dove backwards, firing a shot over her shoulder to avoid another strike. 

 

    After it fell, Dorian noticed the itching he was beginning to associate with dreamer fears. Kelasi hunted around, finding a stuffed nug. It made her smile, and he wondered if she had something like that growing up. Maybe her parents had given it to her as a way of connecting her to Orzammar, even if it wouldn’t have her. She placed it tenderly on the bed, raising the sheet to cover it, and they turned to move on, accepting the faith of a child. Talismans were powerful, even if they seemed small. They weren’t powerful themselves, but they were reminders that fear could be tamed. 

 

    Down the steps, they could see the Divine glimmering ahead of them. She was a beacon in this place, a force for faith and good. Spiders showed up, knowing they would have to pass through the barrier to get to their master. There was probably plenty of fear for them to feed on, a small feast before they were struck down. A few despair demons joined them, no doubt companions to fear. Another pride demon showed up near the end, at least smaller than the last two they felled. 

 

    It managed to whip Krem hard enough that he fell below the surface of one of the pools of water. A despair demon was nearby, starting to freeze it. It made Dorian angry enough that he summoned fire. It wasn’t something he could usually manage, but fire drove back despair, and it would prevent ice from forming above Krem. It was the last demon, though they all took a moment to gather around a supply cache. It didn’t make sense for it to be here, but nothing made sense, and at least this was helpful. 

 

    “You must get through the rift, Inquisitor. Get through the rift, and then slam it closed with all your strength. That will banish the army of demons… and exile this cursed creature to the farthest reaches of the fade,” the Divine told them as she hovered ahead. Kelasi tilted her head, as if listening to something, and pulled a shining pearl out of the water. It glistened pleasingly, and felt like the gifts from all of the dreamers. She tucked it into her pack before moving forward. 

 

    The water got deeper, dripping down from above them. The Divine glowed brighter, burning more red now. There were noises, like the spider fears, but louder, deeper, and utterly terrifying. Dorian took a deep breath and centered himself, resting a hand on Krem’s shoulder. Krem gave him a smile, and he had the strength to move forward. 

 

    “The rift!” Hawke called out. “We’re almost there.” There was more red lyrium, something he could see ahead that looked like a large spider, gorged on blood and red lyrium. 

 

    “We’re not there yet, stay alert,” Cassandra warned them. The warning wasn’t needed, with the view of the demons they got as they turned the corner, including one that looked as though it had a spider on its back. It rose up before it, backed by the spider. 

 

    “If you could please tell Leliana, ‘I am sorry. I failed you too,’” the Divine asked of them, before pouring her light into the spider. The spider dissipated, and they were facing the Aspect of the Nightmare, blunted by faith, hope, and the knowledge that no matter remote, help would be there. The little spiders were easy, leading into the big fight.

 

    It taunted them, trying to make them more fearful. Dorian just focused on the rift, the idea that they could get past this and get back to solid ground. Hope was the only thing he thought about. It fueled his magic, not giving it the same raw power as anger, but making it easier to resist the whispers of demons. 

 

    The rift was ahead of them, and they ran as quickly as they could. They were so close to the rift when the spider rematerialized. It was damaged, limbs broken, a black burn on it. The red had been leached from it, but still it stood in front of them. Dorian’s heart stuttered in his chest. They were so close. 

 

    “We need to clear a path!” Loghain yelled. 

 

    “Go, I’ll cover you!” Hawke retorted. 

 

    “No you were right the Wardens made this mistake, a Warden must fix it,” Loghain answered back. His face looked bleak, but he accepted his duty. “I’ve spent enough time answering for my own mistakes it would be fitting for me to die fixing someone else's.”  

 

    “A warden must help them rebuild! That’s your job. Corypheus is mine,” Hawke replied.  They both turned to Kelasi, who studied them. She made a call, and for once, it wasn’t the call he expected. 

 

    “Loghain…” 

 

    “Fight well. You will not die while I draw breath. For the wardens!” Loghain yelled and charged, cutting off as much of the spider as he could. Kelasi waited until the last second, seeing if there was any way for Loghain to catch up. At last, she gave up. They dropped through the rift to the courtyard they left, to see Inquisition soldiers and wardens fighting demons. Kelasi slammed the rift shut, and the demons around them collapsed. The troops were safe, if knocked off their feet. They were safe, feet back on the ground in the real world. He only wished it hadn’t cost quite so much. 

 

    “She was right. Without the Nightmare to control them, the mages are free, and Corypheus loses his demon army,” Hawke told Kelasi. “Though as far as they’re all concerned, the Inquisitor broke the spell with the blessing of the Maker.” Kelasi considered, pondering for a moment. She was usually honest, but then, he’d been expecting her to save Loghain to help rebuild the Wardens. 

 

    “Once they understand what really happened…” Kelasi started. 

 

     “They’ll be terrified. I for one am tired of giving demons something to feed on. But I suppose you’re right,” Hawke replied. A soldier came tearing up to them. 

 

    “Inquisitor. The Archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared. The venatori Magister is unconscious but alive. Cullen thought you might like to deal with him yourself. As for the Wardens, those who weren’t corrupted helped us fight the demons.” As the soldier was talking, a soldier with a Warden helm approached, standing at attention. 

 

    “We stand ready to help make up for Clarel’s… tragic mistake,” the Warden added. Dorian thought it had been a good deal more than a tragic mistake. “Where is Loghain?” Hawke looked down at his feet, before turning to Kelasi. 

 

    “Warden Loghain died striking a blow against the servant of the Blight,” she replied. “We will honor his sacrifice, and remember how exemplified the ideals of the Grey Wardens. Even as Corypheus and his servants tried to destroy you all from within.” 

 

    “Inquisitor, we have no one left of any significant rank. What do we do now?” the Warden asked. Kelasi seemed to be considering. Dorian was hoping her answer would be what he expected of her. She could banish them, or she could help them rebuild, prevent them from becoming corrupted later. Even corrupted Grey Wardens were better than no Grey Wardens, if a Blight came along. 

 

    “You stay and do whatever you can to help,” she replied. “Loghain and Clarel both died for the ideals of the Wardens. In war, victory. And we’re still at war. Do you believe the Wardens can still help?” she asked. 

 

    “I do, your worship,” the warden replied. 

 

    “You’re still vulnerable to Corypheus, and possibly his Venatori, but there are still plenty of demons that need killing,” she added. Dorian could see her drawing up a plan to allow them to engage where they were needed, without risking themselves. 

 

    “While they do that, I’ll inform the Wardens at Weisshaupt what’s happened. Best they not get caught of guard,” Hawke added. Kelasi nodded. 

 

    “Thank you, your Worship. We will not fail you,” the Warden added. Dorian could only hope they lived up to their word. 

 

    “Good luck, Inquisitor. It’s been an honor,” Hawke added with a bow. “And… take care of Varric for me.” Dorian couldn’t help but wonder if that’s why Kelasi saved Hawke. She thought of Varric, and how he would feel without his best friend. It didn’t seem as important as giving the Wardens someone with rank to rebuild, but who was he to judge? He’d traveled across Thedas because Felix asked him to. 

 

    “After all that, you give them yet another chance?” Cassandra asked. She seemed incredibly skeptical. 

 

    “I would rather keep them where I can watch them than banish them to have them turn up later,” Kelasi replied. “Besides, the world needs Grey Wardens.” Cassandra nodded reluctantly. Dorian would swear he heard her mumble something about maybe it would be better to make new ones, but that was out of character for her. He didn’t really care, he just wanted to go back to Skyhold, where he had a bed that he didn’t need to fight tired soldiers, demons, or Wardens for.. He was exhausted, and the travel back seemed as though it would take an eternity. 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been incredibly motivated! I was hoping that I could get this posted on the tenth, but I had high pain for a couple of days so it's a little later than my goal. The next part should hopefully be just as fast to write, and I'll get it to you in the next few weeks.

     Dorian had never seen a more welcome sight than Skyhold. They’d been on the road for longer than he’d liked. He didn’t ask for rests though, only wanting to be surrounded by familiar walls. Krem woke him up on his horse periodically, asking if he needed to stop for a rest, and shook his head. He could sleep here now, on this horse, in order to sleep in his bed. It also had the added effect of making Krem particularly attentive, and he couldn’t complain about that too much. 

 

    They were home now, and it alarmed him slightly to realize that this strange fortress was becoming more of a home to him than Tevinter. He could worry about it more when he got some sleep. He shuffled to their room, carrying his saddlebags despite Krem’s offer because he was enjoying doing things for himself. Also, Krem had been doing all that he had, and didn’t deserve to carry double the weight. He meant to keep those thoughts to himself, but then noticed Krem giggling at him. 

 

    “I don’t mind, I promise. This is much less hard on me than you, I’ve spent time training for endurance and to be able to carry all of this weight, you haven’t.” Krem touched his cheek, and Dorian could feel his face warming. 

 

    “It’s alright, I won’t get better unless I keep trying,” Dorian replied. He shuffled off faster, Krem keeping to his pace and guiding him down the stairs. Dorian was tired, and that’s the only reason he probably asked the next thing in his head. “Did you really mean it when you said you would be fine living a life where you served me and helped me change the world?” Krem blinked, looking slightly stunned. 

 

    “I seldom say things I don’t mean. But yes. There’s more to life than sex, or touch, or relationships. And while I won’t complain if I meet someone who accepts me for who I am, and wants to touch me…” Krem blushed. “In that way, purpose matters to me more. I can see that you’re going to do great things for Tevinter, and I want to be a part of that.” Dorian smiled. 

 

    “I’m glad you have that much faith in me. Sometimes it’s hard to have that much faith in myself.” Dorian opened the door to their room, setting his saddle bags to the side to unpack later. He started unclipping his armor, and when he was mostly undressed, he fell onto the bed, crawling under the covers. Normally he wore more than this, but right now he didn’t care. He didn’t even care that it was cold, for all that Skyhold was starting to warm up slowly with the arrival of spring. The cold was nice, and he was nearly asleep before Krem slid in behind him. 

 

    Krem was wearing about as much as he was, a thin pair of leggings, no shirt, no corset. Dorian knew without turning around, because Krem’s breasts were pressed into his back. He bit his tongue in order to avoid making a noise, hoping Krem thought he was asleep so this would continue. His cock was so hard he didn’t think he could sleep. He felt himself starting to drift off anyway, held and safe for the first time in a month. He realized something right before he fell asleep. Skyhold had become home because of this room. Krem was home. 

 

**. . .**

 

    Dorian felt refreshed after eating a full meal not made of game caught on the road and sleeping in a real bed. For once, he was up before Krem, enjoying the physical contact before Krem woke up. He feigned being asleep until Krem left, just because it felt so wonderful. Shame burned hot in his gut the entire time, taking advantage of Krem like that. After Krem had been gone for a few minutes, he rolled out of bed. The linens smelled like road dust now, so he stripped them off the bed to bring to the laundry and headed to take a bath himself. 

 

    It felt good to scrub all of the dirt and dust off, and even better to dress himself in clean clothing. He shaved, carefully trimming his moustache, glad to do it with a mirror. The last step was to adjust his hair, and he was ready to go to his library. There were more books now, and he took a moment to carefully arrange them. The smell here was wonderful, old parchment and dust, instead of hot animal, sweaty man, or sour blood. This was where he belonged, somewhere civilized with plenty of books. Though as long as Kelasi needed him, he would do what needed to be done. That reminded him, he’d had an idea… A door above him opened and shut, and he could hear Leliana talking to Kelasi. 

 

    “Hawke sent me one final report. He is on his way to Weisshaupt.” Leliana’s voice echoed strangely in the tower, making it difficult to understand what she was saying. “As for the Grey Wardens, they are fighting demons and red templars while staying clear of Venatori. You dealt Corypheus a significant blow Inquisitor.”

 

    “We owe much of that to Loghain… and to the Divine,” Kelasi replied. Dorian couldn’t help but smile. She was quick to take the blame for things, and slow to accept credit. 

 

    “Yes,” Leliana replied. “You took an army from Corypheus, but that will matter little if Orlais falls into chaos. All arrangements have been made for the ball in Halamshiral. Let us know when you are ready to proceed.” 

 

    “Remind me what we know about the plot against Celene,” Kelasi requested. She sounded tired, probably unable to get the same rest and treatment he did before throwing herself into more work. She really needed to take a break. 

 

    “The Venatori are planning some kind of attack on the Imperial Court. Corypheus may even be fueling the conflict between the empress and her cousin, Grand Duke Gaspard. If we warn Celene, she may prove a most valuable ally against Corypheus.” Leliana trusted in all of the information she had. Small wonder, considering how much of it she had. 

 

    “I’ll go as soon as I am able,” Kelasi replied. She sounded stressed, as if this added one more thing to her burden of command. 

 

    “Good. Cullen, Josephine, and I will discuss the best way to gain an audience with the empress. Speak with us when you are ready,” Leliana finished. There was a slight squeak of the door in the upper tower before Leliana asked another question. She sounded hesitant, as if she regretted speaking. “What was she like?” There was only one she Leliana could mean, but she elaborated anyway. “Divine Justinia, or her soul, or the spirit that took her form. I read your report. I know it isn’t clear, but…” 

 

    “She seemed… calm. Serene, even. And she guided us the whole way through,” Kelasi replied. 

 

    “That does sound like her,” Leliana said with a smile in her voice. It was sad, but she, more than anyone, knew how much the Divine valued life. 

 

    “She did ask me to tell you something though,” Kelasi added. She sounded guarded, hesitant about sharing the information. He couldn’t blame her, he didn’t know if he would want to pass along the Divine’s final message for Leliana. She said, ‘I’m sorry I failed you, too.’”

 

    “What?” Leliana seemed stunned. “That can’t be right. She hasn’t failed me, not ever. I was the one who let her down, I couldn’t protect her.” Leliana sighed, catching herself. “Perhaps later we can discuss this further?” and then she didn’t say any more. Kelasi’s footsteps echoed down the tower, and she came up to him. 

 

    “You have remarkably little here on Tevinter history. All these “gifts” to the Inquisition the best they can do is the Malefica Imperio? Trite propaganda. But if you want twenty books on whether Divine Galatea took a shit on Sunday, this is evidently the place to find it.” He didn’t mean to sound so petty, but he was spoiled by the Tevinter archives. Not that he blamed anyone in Ferelden or Orlais for not having those volumes, considering the Imperium, but it was frustrating. He was looking for more information on Corypheus’ background, and none of it was here. It could do the Inquisition a world of good. 

 

    “That’s the Dorian I know: Critiquing every book in my library,” she told him. There was a smile on her face, the same one she loved to use when she was flirting with him. 

 

    “I wouldn’t have to if you could find some rebellious heretic archivist to join the cause,” he said irritably. He regretted it, because she was doing the best she could under the circumstances. She just gave him her best flirty smile. 

 

    “Are there rebellious archivists? Other than you, that is?” Kelasi was amused, and it made him realize how silly he sounded. 

 

    “If Corypheus ever starts burning masterworks of literature, I’m sure a few will pop up,” Dorian said wryly. That reminded him. “Did I see something by Genitivi here? I could have sworn…” 

 

    “What’s this about Dorian?” Kelasi asked with a tilt of her head. 

 

    “What else could it be about? What happened at Adamant of course. We went into the Fade. Physically went in. Are you… Alright?” He couldn’t worry then, not with Krem to fuss about and a fear demon ready to turn anything into a tasty snack. But he could worry now, that they almost lost the leader of the Inquisition. 

 

    “I learned a surprising amount. What happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, for one,” she added. That surprised him, and it didn’t. She rolled with most things, usually hit harder by the loss of people than she admitted to now. Did she not… Like Loghain? How odd of her, when she enjoyed just about everyone else. 

 

    “Regained your memories. That’s good then?” He asked her. Hard to believe that a memory that painful would be worth keeping. 

 

    “I think so,” she replied. He realized then that she had far more courage than he ever would. 

    “You do realize this feat hasn’t been done in over a thousand years. Corypheus and his contemporaries entered the fade and began the blights. In comparison…” Dorian was glad that he could think about fear now, feel it and address it instead of pushing it down and drowning it out. It was a miracle that they didn’t mess things up more than they already had. 

 

    “At least you were by my side,” she told him with her flirty grin. He couldn’t help but laugh. 

 

    “No offense, but I’d almost rather I hadn’t been.” For both Krem and himself. Though he felt better for realizing his greatest fear, and then being reassured out of it. Somehow it was less scary coming from outside of his head.  

 

    “No sense of adventure? That’s surprising,” Kelasi told him, no doubt remembering the journey he undertook to get here. That was the difference between them. Some part of her probably enjoyed all of the action, and he just tried to keep his eyes open and not scream too much.  

 

    “I’ve not got your talent for surviving, and not everyone is as discerning as I. If you can walk in the fade, others will try to follow. Who knows what secrets Corypheus has revealed? Not all of them will be as lucky as you. What they could unleash... My advice? Keep this quiet. Too many will see this as a challenge.” He was almost bouncing with nervous energy, hoping Kelasi would agree with him on this. The Fade was not something to be entered lightly only in dreams. 

 

    “I agree,” she told him, and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

 

    “There are enough idiots in the world who think that if they just use enough blood magic, their problems will vanish. It’s exactly the sort of thing I want to stop back home. This… This I don’t need.” He breathed hard, an angry huff. It made him feel slightly better, before he got sucked between guilt at not being in Tevinter, and the knowledge that he couldn’t return home yet. Back to the task at hand. “What I do need is a copy of the Liberalum. I’ll wager I can find Corypheus’s real name.” He knew what it looked like, and where his personal copy was kept on his shelves. Not that it did him any good here. “If I can prove he was a grasping ankle-biter with no family to speak of? The luster would come right off. Wish me luck.” Kelasi shook her head in reply, leaving him to his research. 

 

**. . .**

 

  Varric approached him later, swearing at the height of the stairs. Kelasi never had much of a problem, but she had a tendency to bound everywhere, leaping as much as walking. It was one of the things that made her footsteps so distinctive. 

 

    “Hey Sparkler, I’m rounding up a game of wicked grace. You want to join?” Varric tilted his head slightly, crossing his arms in a way that made it clear he wasn’t asking. Dorian sighed in reply. 

 

    “I’m in the middle of something. Also, why do you call me Sparkler? You’ve gotten to know me well enough by now, should you have a more appropriate nickname?” Dorian crossed his arms over his chest, staring Varric down. 

 

    “Wouldn’t you like to take a break from the thing you’re in the middle of? Join in some fun? I even managed to get Ruffles to get us some wine,” Varric told him. Now he was coaxing, and wasn’t that odd. Dorian also didn’t miss how they weren’t going to talk about the nickname, but he was curious. 

 

    “Why are you being so insistent about this, Varric?” Dorian asked. Varric hesitated. 

 

    “Well. I figured our illustrious Inquisitor could use a night off, and I thought, what better way for her to enjoy it than to surround her with all of the people she cares about.” Varric sounded nonchalant, but he was clearly proud of the idea. “I’ve already talked to everyone else except Kelasi, so we’re just waiting on you.” Varric paused a moment, considering something before continuing. It took Dorian more than a bit of effort to not interrupt. “Also, I don’t know if you heard about what happened with Cole?” Dorian felt a stab of anxiety. He’d heard Solas and Varric arguing below him, heard about an amulet. 

 

    “I hadn’t. Is he alright?” Dorian asked. Cole had a tendency to ask awkward questions he didn’t want to answer, but Cole also reminded him of Felix. It was the closest he would get, now. 

 

    “Yeah. He’s doing pretty well. He’s a little… Different.” Varric smiled. “Different in a new way, I mean. He’s still learning how to be more human, and I figured this might help him.” Varric’s smile turned mischievous. “Also, I asked Krem along, and he seemed to be interested. Said something along the lines of the Chargers usually played for clothes, but there was still some merit in playing for money.” Dorian blushed, he couldn’t help it, though he knew it would end in teasing. “There’s something to be said for a relationship where you still blush about seeing your partner naked. I’ve set up a table at the inn, see you there in a few minutes.” Maker, what had he gotten himself in to? 

 

**. . .**

 

     Dorian wandered over to the inn to find Krem, Bull, Cullen, Josephine, Cassandra, Cole, and Blackwall sitting around a table. There were tankards, and judging by the size Bull had supplied them. A deck of cards was splayed out over the table, and everything smelled faintly of ale. 

 

    “Over here, Dorian, I saved you a spot,” Krem called out. He had a handful of cards out, teaching Cole and Cassandra the rules. Cassandra looked unimpressed, though she was dutifully attentive. Cole looked confused, though he tried to follow along. It was interesting to watch Cole, now that he new. Cole seemed more solid, somehow, and made more eye contact. He also made more sense, though not by much. Dorian sat down, familiar with the rules because of its popularity as a tavern game. 

    “I found her Ruffles!” Varric announced as he came through the door, Kelasi behind him. “Deal her in!” He sounded happy, over whatever made him so unbearably sad after they returned from the Fade. 

 

    “I do hope I recall the rules,” Josephine replied. “It’s been ages since I played a game of Wicked Grace.” That made Dorian raise his eyebrows. Somehow he doubted it, and made a note to pay attention to the lady ambassador. 

 

    “Grab a seat,” Varric told Kelasi. “We’re ready to start.” Varric settled in, occasionally sipping from his tankard. Kelasi also sat, though her tankard was untouched until Varric leaned over. “It’s alright, I got you water. I know you’re not a big drinker.” Kelasi nodded, smiling in thanks. 

 

    “Are we going to play cards or what?” Bull asked. Impatient as ever. Krem noticed too, smiling fondly. Dorian’s heart squeezed, until Krem rested a hand on his thigh. Then he was more focused on his cards, trying to pay attention through a haze of lust. It wasn’t easy. 

 

    “Are three drakes better than a pair of swords? I can never remember,” Cassandra asked, and Dorian couldn’t help but smile. He wondered if it would make Krem feel like he did, strangely jealous for no reason. He reached down and gave Krem’s hand a squeeze, only to have Krem squeeze back. Not his hand, his thigh. He was back in a haze of lust, his cards going in and out of focus. Krem’s grin was almost cheeky now, and he could feel the blush rolling up his cheeks. 

 

    “Seeker, remember how I said, ‘Don’t show anyone your hand?’. That rule includes announcing it to the table,” Varric replied, and Dorian giggled. Too loudly, as Cassandra glared at him, raising her eyebrows when she noticed the location of Krem’s hand. Krem yanked it away, flushing and staring at his cards. 

 

    “There’s a crown on his head, but a sword, too. His head didn’t want either,” Cole said. He sounded bewildered, not sure why anyone would capture people in a way that made them so uncomfortable. 

 

    “Don’t talk to the face cards, kid,” Varric replied. Cole blinked up at him, his eyes barely visible below the brim of his hat. 

 

    “Is that one of the things I’m not supposed to do now that I’m more human?” Cole asked, his tone small and needy, a child who is worried they overstepped. Varric smiled reassuringly, and Cole offered a watery smile in return. 

 

    “You’re alright, kid. The cards don’t mean the same thing to humans, that’s all,” Varric replied. Dorian breathed a sigh of relief. He would’ve stood up for Cole, because he understood awkward boys who didn’t know how to socialize, but he was glad not to need to. 

 

    “You seem to have enough people. I have a thousand things to do,” Cullen said. His tone was angry and short, his brows wrinkled in worry as he pushed his chair out. He looked tense, and Dorian couldn’t blame him. There was no doubt a lot to clean up after Adamant. Even so, everyone deserved to be able to put it down sometimes. 

 

    “Losing money can be both relaxing and habit forming. Give it a try!” Dorian told him. He knew what it was to be overworked, and it was important that people have an outlet, or they would lose heart for their work. 

 

    “Curly, if any man in history ever needed a hobby, it’s you,” Varric added. He had his most charming smile on, real affection in his face. Varric also nodded at Dorian, thanking him for the contribution. He seemed at home here, surrounded by people he brought together. Such a difference from the broken man who returned from Adamant, only to spend all of his time writing letters. Cullen reluctantly scooted his chair back in, surveying the hand of cards Josephine dealt. 

 

    “Dealer starts…” Josephine was speaking quietly, pretending not to know how this went. He recognized it, but wanted to let her have her fun. It would be amusing, and he and Krem had plenty they could afford to lose with the Inquisition taking care of their needs. “I believe I will start at three coppers. Do you think that’s too daring?” She continued, not actually expecting anyone to answer. “Maybe I’ll make it one… No! Boldness it is. Three coppers.” Bull looked stunned and appalled. 

 

    “Seriously? Who starts at three coppers? Silver or go home!” Bull looked personally offended, but as the head of a band of mercenaries, he had more money than the rest of them. Not to mention a greater ability to tolerate alcohol, and many partners. Excess was the norm for him, no doubt yearned for after years of restricted living under the Qun. 

 

    “Sounds good, I’m in,” Blackwall added, throwing some coins into the pot. His expression didn’t change, and Dorian realized he would be another one to watch. 

 

    “The bolder the better, right? I’m in,” Dorian added with a smile on his face. It was good to have this time to relax. He didn’t want to admit how much of his happiness was due to Krem, safe and happy at his side. But people could be happy for their friends, right? He could celebrate Krem being alive the same way he could celebrate Kelasi being alive, all of them free from the influence of the Nightmare. 

 

    “I’ll add to that,” Krem replied, throwing his own share of coins into the pot. The grin on his face was huge, enjoying the time and the humor of everyone around them. He seemed content, his hand still on Dorian’s thigh, driving him to near madness. How could something so small feel that good? 

 

    “Me too,” Varric added, the ghost of a smile on his face as he threw his coins in. “Well?” Varric paused, looking at Kelasi. “Are you in?” 

 

    “Just remember I’m still new to this game,” Kelasi replied, throwing a few coins in. 

 

    “So shiny!” Cole interjected, moving a gold coin back and forth, watching as it caught the light. That made Dorian smile. Felix had a similar habit, especially in candle light. The light would mesmerize him, soothing the harshest whispers of the Blight or the most desperate feelings of fear. It made his heart ache with loss, even as he felt angry at Alexius. Felix was the sort of man who would do the right thing, no matter the cost. He would probably have had a few more good years to live out his life, if not for Alexius. 

 

     Such dark thoughts, when he was supposed to be enjoying himself. Strange how he could only face it when he felt safe, among friends, not on the road or fearing for his life. There was a lump in his throat, not aided by the ale he swallowed. His eyes stung with the tears he hadn’t shed over his friend. 

 

     “Are you alright?” Krem asked, giving Dorian’s hand a reassuring squeeze. It was a low murmur, pitched so no one else could hear it. He nodded, swallowing another mouthful of ale as he added more coins to the pot. Krem gave him another squeeze, obviously not quite believing him. Dorian smiled, as best he could. The important thing to remember is that Felix died doing what he loved and believed in. He had to die sometime, and this way he went out on his own terms. Dorian settled in to listen to Cullen’s amusing story, forcing himself to think about nothing other than the people around him. He’d lost a younger brother, true, but there was so much more family for him to find here. There would be time to cry for Felix later, when he could also cry for the man Alexius used to be. 

 

     “The poor recruit ran into the dining hall in nothing but his knickers. And this… profound silence fell over the hall as seventy mages and thirty templars all turned at once.” Cullen was laughing so hard at this point he could barely get his sentence out. “Then, a slow round of applause began. And spread until every soul was on their feet. A standing ovation.” Josephine was giggling, trying to hide it in an attempt to seem more lady like. 

 

    “What…” She paused, trying to give herself time to breathe. “What did he do?” 

 

    “Saluted, turned on his heel. And marched out like he was in full armor,” Cullen finished, pleased to hear all of the laughter and various exclamations around the table, including Bull’s skepticism. Kelasi smiled, clearly enjoying herself. 

 

    “I’ve got one for you. There was a time the Carta sent me to do some collections. Just pick up the protection money and bring it back, by any means necessary. What they forgot to tell me was the first business on that list was this old seamstress,” Kelasi started her own humorous story, and it sounded amazing. He was looking forward to hearing the ending, when he felt something. 

 

     Krem’s hand wandered up his thigh, rubbing small circles just below his cock. He wanted to pay attention to the story, it sounded incredibly entertaining. He debated moving Krem’s hand, but wondered if it would be more obvious to move it. A funny way to cheer him up, but he wouldn’t entirely complain. He could feel his cock slowly growing hard, and Krem had a knowing smile slide across his face. Dorian sighed, gently moving Krem’s hand to a more appropriate spot, giving his hand a squeeze to let him know that he wasn’t mad. It allowed his concentration to return long enough to hear the end of Kelasi’s story. 

 

     “She never paid a rusty copper of protection again. And if you mentioned her name to the Dasher, his ears turned purple,” she finished with a great deal of satisfaction. 

 

    “Not bad! You don’t mind if I steal that one, do you?” Varric asked her. 

 

    “Well done!” Dorian told her, a broad smile. Not that he knew the contents of the entire tale, but he could certainly pretend. It sounded funny enough. 

 

    “You should tell stories more often,” Blackwall told her, relaxed as Dorian had ever seen him. 

 

    “I like the part with the rabbit. More stories should have rabbits,” Cole replied. Kelasi’s story hadn’t had any rabbits in it, so it didn’t make much sense, but he was paying some sort of attention at least. 

 

    “That was scandalous!” Josephine told her. “It would ruin the Inquisition if anyone found out.” A mischievous grin spread across her face. “Tell it again.” They focused more on playing cards as Kelasi told her story again, Josephine using the tale as a distraction. She took in pot after pot, finally raking in one of her winnings with an announcement. “And the dealer takes everything! I win again.” There was a smirk on her face, a challenge Cullen evidently couldn’t resist. 

 

    “Deal again. I’ve figured out your tells, Lady Ambassador,” Cullen told her as he leaned forward, eyebrows drawn down his face with a certain amount of eagerness. Dorian highly doubted it. He’d figured out the tells of everyone at the party, except Josephine. He was just pleased that she played so well at cards, people didn’t notice Krem’s hand occasionally teasing him. He kept flitting between wanting to treat Krem as more than a favored slave, and enjoying the touches. His cock was firmly in Krem’s favor, as it was in most things. 

 

    “Commander!” Josephine replied, feigning shock. “Everyone knows a lady has no tells.” The grin on her face was hungry, and Dorian wondered how anyone could stand up to her in diplomatic negotiations. She was terrifying in a way he didn’t believe was possible. 

 

    “Then let’s see if your good fortune lasts one more hand,” Culled said. He sounded arrogant, and Dorian couldn’t believe him. There was no point to playing any more, she had them beat, fair and square. 

 

    “I want another chance to win my dignity back, deal me in,” Kelasi added. That seemed much more sensible. She was rather enraptured with their Josie, and Josie was enraptured right back, judging by the adorable faces they were making at one another all evening. 

 

    They played a few hands, fast and furious. Cullen was no longer playing for money, but clothes, and it wasn’t going well. He had lost his large coat, as well as his shirt. Josephine was still fully clothed, as was Kelasi. He looked more and more panicked, though for reasons Dorian would never understand, he kept playing. Eventually, he was naked. Not a bad view, though he kept his eyes somewhat averted. He was reasonably sure no one here would harm him, but people could be funny about a man looking at them while they were undressed. Eventually, Cullen was completely naked. 

 

    “Don’t say a word, dwarf,” Cullen growled at Varric. Varric just laughed while Josephine and Kelasi exchanged looks. 

 

    “I tried to warn you, Curly,” Varric said as he stood up, still laughing. Josephine turned to Kelasi, eyes dancing in the candle light. 

 

    “You won the whole pot! I knew you could do it, my love!” Josephine told her, happiness apparent on her face. Dorian knew who would have won, if not for the budding romance between the two of them, but he certainly wouldn’t tell Cullen that. 

 

    “I’m leaving. I don’t want to witness our commander’s walk of shame back to the barracks,” Cassandra added. Dorian thought about adding a glib comment, but he didn’t want them to think that he was unfaithful to Krem. Even if he and Krem weren’t technically together. 

 

    “It comes off!” Cole exclaimed. “I didn’t know it came off…” Dorian couldn’t help but smile. The coat did seem like a large part of who Cullen was, a piece of his identity as a commander. He wondered what Cole saw in that coat, if Cullen managed to attach a piece of himself to it somehow. 

 

    They all stood up after that, stretching and heading off. Bull stayed sitting, drinking the remnants of the tankards, and Kelasi and Varric turned to have a chat at the fireplace. Dorian felt a yawn coming on, and was glad to be heading to bed. This was fun, something he needed. Tevinter didn’t have a place like this for him there. He was always odd to the people his age, so no one spent very much effort trying to get him involved with things like this. There wasn’t much in it for him, not being fond of the double talk and innuendo. Someday, he would have to return home and make his mark, but he would miss all of these people. 

 

**. . .**

 

    “I was wondering…” Krem started the next morning. His eyes were barely open, and Krem wasn’t fully dressed yet. He was wearing the padded pants that went under his armor and the corset that shaped his chest down. It was a good look, and Dorian tried not to look anywhere but Krem’s eyes. “Would you like to come down and meet the Chargers?” Krem looked excited, and Dorian couldn’t help but smile. “I figured you would like to meet the people I’ve been training with, and the people who are with me when you aren’t.” 

 

    “Of course! I’m happy for you to introduce me to your new friends,” Dorian said with a smile on his face. It was true, even though part of him was terrified. This was a new thing. These people mattered to Krem, and Krem wanted him to meet them. They weren’t hidden here, not sexual encounters in a closet before they went back to the real world of breeding and heirs. 

 

    “I’m glad!” Krem told him, starting to put on his armor. It gave Dorian a lovely view of Krem’s ass. “I was so worried you wouldn’t want to meet them.” That broke Dorian’s heart. 

 

    “Why wouldn’t I want to meet your friends?” Dorian asked, his voice soft with care. Krem’s face flushed. 

 

    “I’m not the sort of person people go to those lengths for. The one time I did have someone, and thought it was going somewhere…” Krem trailed off, his voice growing thicker the longer he talked. “I asked him if he wanted to meet my army friends, and he laughed. I was a curiosity, nothing more than an experiment. I left him after that, and it’s part of the reason why I’ve had a hard time finding people I would trust to…” Krem flushed, and Dorian got his meaning. 

 

    “You are a good friend.” Dorian was proud of himself for keeping the anger out of his voice. He wasn’t mad at Krem, but at the person who would treat his friend so callously. Krem deserved better than that. Dorian wasn’t in a position to give Krem what he deserved, either, but at least he knew it. “I want to meet the important people in your life, and I’m honored that you trust me that much.” Dorian looked down at his bare chest, only wearing leggings. “If you don’t mind, I would like to put a bit more on,” he added with a smile. Krem grinned in reply. 

 

    “I don’t know, I rather like you like that. I think some of the others would appreciate you that way as well,” Krem told him. Dorian grinned in delight, more when Krem realized what he said and started blushing. “I… Didn’t think about that before I said it, I apologize.” Dorian stood up and walked over to Krem, gently lifting his chin so Krem wasn’t looking at the floor. 

 

    “You never need to apologize to me for giving me a compliment. It’s alright, and I enjoy it. I don’t mind flirting with you, I just…” Dorian paused, trying to come up with a way to explain what same sex relationships looked like in a Tevinter marriage. “There are men like me back home. They get married and produce heirs. It’s considered one of the greatest signs of favor among slaves to be chosen to have sex with a master. I care about you too much, to make you feel like some prized slave.” Krem looked stunned. 

 

    “I… I wouldn’t feel like that,” Krem replied, eager and sad all at once. “I don’t think you would be capable of making me feel like that.” 

 

    “I know. But I would be reminded of what it would mean to the rest of my friends and family.    
I wouldn’t want you to be seen as anything less than my equal by them. I also promised myself that I wouldn’t be like those other men, using people for the pleasure they give me, while not also sharing my bed and my life.” He smiled at Krem, even though he felt sad. What a country to want to serve, that wouldn’t let him do the things he wanted most. Power to change the country for the better was more important, he just needed to keep reminding himself of that. 

 

    “Alright,” Krem told him, giving him a smile that no doubt matched the sadness of his own. It hurt, to not be able to give Krem the thing he wanted the most. Dorian stood up, putting on the usual outfit he wore around the keep. It had been washed recently, and the cleanliness felt good against his skin. He wore his muck boots, because the yard was becoming muddy with snow melt, and he didn’t want to end up with filthy socks or pants. It surprised him when he was ready before Krem, because he was the more vain one. Krem, however, was still buckling on some pieces of plate he’d added underneath his leather armor. A few more, and they headed out the door together. 

 

    They wound through the keep, hearing people snicker about Cullen’s walk of shame last night. He and Krem both grinned at the memory. The sun was shining brightly through the windows, highlighting the dwarven design. Kelasi had explained it to him once, her own version of a joke. The symbol belonged to one of the famous noble houses in Orzammar, even though everyone thought it was dwarven. She enjoyed the idea of a casteless surface dwarf rubbing something like that in their faces. Outside looked just as bright, although he nearly lost a boot in the mud outside of the steps to the main hall. They wandered along to the training yard, where a motley group of individuals was practicing. Bull came up to them, smiling. 

 

    “What took you so long, Krem de la Creme?” Bull asked them jovially, pulling Krem into a hug that cracked his spine. The sweat pouring off of him didn’t look comfortable, and Dorian understood how Krem smelled like Bull all of the time. 

 

    “I wanted to bring Dorian by to meet all of you,” Krem told him shyly. Bull just smiled, shaking Dorian’s hand. 

 

    “Well, we at least know each other, even if we don’t always get along,” Bull told him with a wink. His grip was crushing, though Dorian did his best not to flinch. When Krem walked further ahead to meet with the rest of the company Bull talked to him. “I know it probably makes you nervous to trust Krem with us, but we take good care of him. He does well with our company, and I think he likes having work.” Dorian couldn’t figure out what Bull wanted, though it was clearly something. “I promise we’ll return your property in one piece,” Bull added when Dorian gave him a confused look. 

 

    “Ah, we seem to have a misunderstanding here. Krem isn’t my property. He’s my friend. I wanted to come alone to check on my mentor, but Krem wouldn’t let me. I wouldn’t ordinarily put him in danger, but it’s not because he’s my slave. It’s because I care about him, deeply, and I worry when I get him into trouble.” Dorian didn’t bother to hide the sharp edge in his voice. This was why he didn’t want people to think they were together. It was convenient usually, because no one knew anything about Tevinter culture. But people who did would look at them and assume Krem was a prized slave. 

 

    “Alright,” Bull replied, giving him a smile. “You do treat him better than I’ve seen most Vints treat anyone, but I thought he was bringing you down here so you would give him permission to join us sometimes.” 

 

    “No!” Dorian didn’t notice how loud he was until Krem turned around to look. Dorian waved him off. “I mean, no, I came down to meet all of you because Krem considers you friends, and wanted to introduce me.” 

 

    “That’s good to hear,” Bull replied. “We like him here. He fits in well, does a good job training the men. He’s a good person to talk to when they think I’m being a hardass, and he’s a born leader. He talks about Crato sometimes, and it sounds like the captain of your guard did a good job with him.” 

 

     “Yes. He did an excellent job training the recruits, until Krem wanted to come with me so he could help me stay safe while we were travelling.” Dorian smiled, thinking about the way Krem took care of the camp when he was so tired he fell asleep outside his bedroll. 

 

     “Well, let me introduce you to the crew. They’re busy training right now, but they’ll come by for drinks later, and you can talk to them a little more in person.” Bull led them over to some training dummies, leaning against the wall of the forge. “The one closest to us is Grim. He doesn’t talk much.” Grim offered a grunt and waved before going back to training. “I’m fond of nicknames, as any of my men will tell you. We gave each other a lot of them, growing up under the Qun. My name was a series of numbers, and those got hard to remember after a while.” Dorian smiled. 

 

    “Tell me, do they wear shirts under the Qun? Or is a harness the favored look?” He couldn’t help but sass Bull, friendly rivalry between their countries aside. Bull just laughed, and pointed out the next person. 

 

    “The one practicing with potions is Rocky. He’s from Orzammar, joined my Chargers when he got exiled for accidentally blowing up part of the shaperate. I’ve spent a decent amount of time trying to keep him from talking to Sera. I don’t want to think about the sort of mischief they’d get into together,” Bull finished, interrupting himself once or twice to call out training advice to his men. “That’s Dalish, with the staff. She’s from a Dalish clan that had too many mages. Not that she says she’s a mage. Stitches is over there, practicing sword work on that dummy. He’s a healer. The terrifying one sparring with Krem is Skinner. She joined our group because she didn’t take kindly to nobles testing their swords on elves in her neighborhood. They’re a crazy bunch of assholes, but they’re mine, and I’m glad Krem wants to join us.” 

 

    They spent the next hour or so chatting. Krem would come over and talk for a bit before sparring with the next person. It looked informal, but everyone got some of Krem’s time. It was beautiful to watch him work in his element. Best of all, no one here cared if he was staring. He could watch Krem, and no one thought poorly of him. They were just glad that Krem had someone who made him happy. 

 

    Drinks afterwards were entertaining. All of the chargers had funny stories to tell about one another, and about the lives they lived before joining the Chargers. Krem was in his element here, talking to everyone as they shouted insults at one another. He glowed, more comfortable here than with the rest of the Inquisition. It was a good fit for him, and Dorian was glad to know that he wasn’t alone here. Eventually, everyone was done and he and Krem headed back to their room. 

 

    “I wanted to meet them before I asked to go on their next mission as well,” Krem told Dorian. “I miss you when I go with them, but they have an important job and I think I can help them stay safe while they do it. Adamant is still crawling with demons, and Kelasi has asked to cover it in rubble.”

 

    “That’s alright, Krem. I miss you when you go with them too, but sometimes there are things you need to do that aren’t protecting me. I have people here who can take care of me, and I’m glad you’ve found a place here.” Dorian couldn’t help but think that Krem wouldn’t want to go back to Tevinter when he was ready to leave. He was happy here, and it was a lot more than Tevinter could offer. A lot more than HE could offer. 

 

    “Alright. We head out two days from now. We shouldn’t be gone too long, two to three weeks again.” Krem wrapped an arm around Dorian and they headed down the stairs. Two days in a row, he got to experience something Tevinter had never given him. People wanted him around, included him in things that mattered. People would notice if he stayed in the library for days at a time. More importantly, he didn’t want to. It wasn’t a cycle of staying in his room until he would do anything for human companionship, and then going to a party that made him want to be back in his room. He was understanding now why people would enjoy human interaction. It only took over thirty years of his life, but he was getting there. 

 

**. . .**

 

    Dorian was in the library, deep in a tome of Tevinter lineages. It was enlightening, although many of these family lines had been extinct since the first Blight. At the same time, it was strange to read so much gossip. People wrote down the oddest things about each other, especially considering the Blight ravaging Tevinter. Why would anyone need to know about illicit affairs, bastard children, or deviant tendencies when darkspawn were bearing down hard on the empire. He was so distracted he didn’t hear Kelasi on the stairs until she cleared her throat behind him. 

 

    “Oh!” Dorian exclaimed as he turned around. “I’ve been meaning to find you. I asked Josephine why she was so flushed and happy. And she dropped. Her. Pen. Bravo, Inquisitor,” he told her with a smile on her face. She didn’t smile in return, and he got nervous. “What’s going on?” 

 

    “Dorian. There’s a letter you need to see,” Kelasi said, her voice low in a way that meant there would be difficult things ahead. 

 

    “A letter?” Dorian’s voice rolled around the word. The more nervous he got, the more he flirted. “Is it a naughty letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan dowager?” His hope held out for as long as it took Kelasi to start speaking again. 

 

    “Not quite. It’s from your father.” 

 

    “From my father. I see. What does Magister Pavus want, pray tell?” Dorian couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice. Bad enough that he would do everything his father wanted, only to end up fleeing to the Inquisition. Even worse to track him down, as if he was still a drunk that would dive into the nearest tavern at the slightest provocation. 

 

    “A meeting.” Kelasi stood still, waiting for more of his rage to spill over. Dorian sighed. 

 

    “Show me this letter,” he told her as he held out his hand. The more he read, the more angry  he got. Who was his father to say any of these things? “‘I know my son.’ What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble.” Kelasi flinched some at his anger, so he managed to pull back to a more reasonable volume. “This is so typical. I’m willing to bet this retainer is a henchman, hired to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter.”

 

    “That would be hard to do while I stood there.” Kelasi was so quiet Dorian had to lean forward to hear her. She was so furious she could barely speak, he guessed. She controlled all of her passion so well, it was hard to remember that she was protective of those in her care above all else. 

 

    “He expects me to travel with Mother Giselle, although Maker knows why he thinks I would.” His voice broke, and he could feel his eyes beginning to sting. He wasn’t ready to deal with this, wasn’t expecting to confront his father until he was done with the Inquisition. “Let’s meet this so-called family retainer. If it’s a trap, we escape and kill everyone. You’re good at that.” Kelasi couldn’t help but smile at that. “If it’s not, I sent the man back to my father with the message that he can stick his alarm in his wit’s end. 

 

    “There seems to be bad blood between you and your family.” Kelasi couldn’t know how ironic her word choices were. He laughed. 

 

    “Interesting turn of phrase. But you’re correct. They don’t care for my choices, nor I for theirs.” Dorian left it at that, still fighting the lump in his throat. It clashed with his raging fury at his father using Kelasi against him. 

 

    “Because you left?” Kelasi asked. He hadn’t told her about Caidy, and his match back home. He was still revelling in his freedom here, in the way he and Krem were treated as a couple. Part of him wishes she had. He could explain to her why his father’s choices hurt him as much as they did. 

 

    “That too.” His voice had a note of finality. Hopefully Kelasi wouldn’t push harder. 

 

    “Let’s go meet this retainer then,” Kelasi told him, an understanding expression on her face. The thing he liked most about her was the fact that he seldom had to explain anything to her. She understood him, even without trying. 

 

    “I wonder how much my father paid this man to wait around just in case I showed?” Dorian sighed. “We’ll find out soon enough.” 

 

    Dorian’s thoughts whirled through his head as he walked down to his room. Krem was gone, having left with the Chargers several days ago, and he hadn’t been sleeping well. It didn’t help his confusion any. Everything he was feeling tumbled together, his mind morphing into the area of the Fade that sucked at your feet. 

 

    Anger was easy enough to recognize, and he was feeling plenty of that. His father interrupted the good he was doing here for selfish reasons. Magister Pavus spoke at length about the dangers of Venatori, as well as blood magic. Who was he to leave all of his principles, including the ones Dorian still honored? 

 

    There was hurt, too. He was being the perfect son. He chose a politically advantageous match that would result in heirs with strong magic. More than that, he went to political parties, consulted with Alvina and the steward about gossip. He’d kept himself away from the company of men, sacrificed one of the few things that brought him any pleasure, all for nothing. Nothing he did would ever be good enough for his father. 

 

    Fear surfaced now and again. He was terrified of his father, and the lengths he would go to in order to have the perfect son. What if this meeting was a trap? What if Dorian was about to be forced back to Tevinter before he was ready? He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to the closeness he had with Krem. Not to mention that he felt honor bound to end the terror of the Venatori. Tevinter needed to take responsibility its citizens wreaking havoc over the rest of the world. 

 

    Relief was the strangest thing he was feeling. However this went, he wouldn’t be in it alone. Kelasi would be there to prevent him from being kidnapped or strangling his father. Krem would want to come with him, but he was off resolving Adamant. Part of him wanted to wait until Krem was back, and could stand with him against his father. But he knew what it would look like to his father. A scandal that could prevent his marriage prospects, as well as another broken promise. His thoughts consumed him, distracting him so much that he tripped on the last step. Cole steadied him, much to his surprise. 

 

    “I’m more human now, but I can still feel pain. I don’t think that will ever change about me.” Cole blinked, giving Dorian one of his owl eyed stares. “Do you want to talk about it? Varric told me that’s what humans offer when they want to help.” He was eager, an earnestness he didn’t usually see on people. Dorian couldn’t help but smile. 

 

    “I don’t know that there’s much to talk about, or that talking would help.” Dorian gave the most honest reply he could. Maker, but Cole made him miss Felix. Cole blinked in reply. 

 

    “I know I remind you of him. It’s okay that it hurts. He was a good person for you to miss him that badly, and I’m sorry that he was taken away from you.” Cole smiled. “It’s silly, but I came here to help you, and I made you hurt more. Varric would find that funny.” 

 

    “It’s alright, Cole. Sometimes people need hurt, in order for them to feel better later. It’s why you try to help people be at peace with their pain, instead of erasing it entirely.” Dorian’s heart softened, and he felt grounded, even in the storm of his emotions. “I loved Felix, like a brother. I miss him, but I’m glad you do many of the same things he did. It lets me remember the good parts of him.” 

 

    “What about your father? You feel like you lost him too, even though he’s still alive.” Cole’s expression didn’t change, which helped. Cole wouldn’t pass judgement on him, no matter how he felt about something. 

 

    “I don’t know that I ever found him. Or maybe he never found me. I’ve never been what he wanted in a son, and I thought I made my peace with that. Yet here he is, and I’m still feeling all of the same things I usually do.” Dorian didn’t talk about his father much. He’d learned long ago that there wasn’t a point to it. No one understood because they were dealing with so much more from their parents. It was a strange realization that he could be hurt by his father, even if other people were hurting worse. 

 

    “I think your father was wrong to make you feel that way. I’ve seen the way you care about people, care about Krem. You’re good at the things that make people feel better, and that’s what matters. Whatever happens, we’ll be here. If you ever want to talk again, you’ll know where to find me,” Cole finished, heading off in a separate direction. Dorian didn’t feel great, but he did feel better. Cole made for a very strange friend. 

 

**. . .**

    They left quickly, just the two of them. Leliana lent them two horses that were usually reserved for couriers, delivering urgently needed supplies, so they flew down the road. Kelasi didn’t talk unless he showed an interest, which Dorian appreciated. The trip was the fastest he’d ever gone anywhere. He pushed himself, not stopping until Kelasi called for it. Kelasi also didn’t stop to help people. She wanted to get them to Redcliffe as soon as possible, because it was just the two of them, and she could tell how much he was hurting. 

 

    Dorian fretted the entire journey. He was worried he was making the wrong choice, that he would regret doing this. Some part of him wanted this. He wasn’t sure if he wanted this retainer to grovel and beg forgiveness on his father’s behalf, or if he wanted to tell the retainer that he was done with his father. Either would be satisfying, but he didn’t know which would be better. Some small part of him still hoped that his father would come to accept him as a son, despite the fact that Magister Pavus never had. 

 

    Too soon, or finally, he couldn’t decide which, they were at the tavern. Kelasi gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as he was staring at the door. Part of him was remembering staying there with Krem. The other part of him was almost sick with worry. What would be behind that door? There was one way to find out. He took a deep breath, and pushed it open. It was deserted, even though there were tankards and game boards on many of the tables. Candles lit the space, even though sunlight shone through the cracks in the shutters. He looked over his shoulder and back, trying to spot the retainer. 

 

    “Uh oh, nobody’s here. This doesn’t bode well,” Dorian said as his stomach dropped. He didn’t know what it meant, but it made him uneasy. 

 

    “Dorian.” Somehow he missed the footsteps coming down the stairs, which was a feat considering how badly they creaked. That voice was familiar, having reprimanded him too many times. His heart thundered in his chest, because it was the person he wanted to see the least. 

 

    “Father,” Dorian said as he turned to face the voice. Kelasi moved closer, enough that he could feel her behind him, and he appreciated it. “So the whole story about the family trainer was just… What? A smoke screen?” Anger and fear warred in him. He wanted to run. He wanted to yell his father into the ground. 

 

    “Then you were told,” his father replied as he walked forward. He was wearing the robes of his office, including the gloves that went halfway up his arms. There was stubble on his cheeks, which made Dorian wonder. He was never one to let his facial hair go. Had he left in a great hurry? Forgotten his razor? Either way, it painted a different picture of the man than he was used to. “I apologize for the deception, Inquisitor. I never intended for you to be involved.” His voice was kind, tinged with regret. 

 

    “Of course not. Magister Pavus couldn’t come to Skyhold and be seen with the dread Inquisitor. What would people think?” Dorian usually prided himself on his calm in conflict, but he couldn’t keep the venom out of his voice. The Inquisition was the best thing to ever happen to him, so of course his father would hate it. “What is this exactly, father? Ambush? Kidnapping? Warm family reunion?” His father sighed. 

 

    “This is how it has always been.” He ended his sentence there, looking at Kelasi. Kelasi’s eyebrows were furrowed, and she paused before giving a reply. 

 

    “Considering you lied to get him here, Dorian has every right to be angry,” Kelasi replied to Magister Pavus. He admired her in that moment. Very few people stood up to his father that way when he was in his official robes. Even so, he knew there were more reasons to be angry at his father. 

 

    “You don’t know the half of it! But maybe you should.” Dorian regretted his anger when Kelasi took a small step back. He didn’t want to frighten her, not ever. 

 

    “Dorian, there’s no need to-” Magister Pavus replied. Dorian cut his father off. 

 

    “I prefer the company of men. My father disapproves. You knew that much. But I was a good son. I wanted to follow in his footsteps, build up political power and produce heirs to I could make Tevinter a better place. I was willing to play pretend, marry a woman. Produce heirs with perfect magic, bodies, and minds. I was going to be a good son, but that wasn’t enough for him, no.” Dorian glared daggers at his father, daring him to beat him to the punch. 

 

    “Dorian, please. If you’ll only listen to me.” Magister Pavus never begged. He demanded, ordered, or told you about decisions he made afterwards. He wouldn’t get his way this time. 

 

    “Why? So you can spout more convenient lies? He taught me to hate blood magic. ‘The last resort of a weak mind.’ Those are his words. But my being a good son wasn’t enough for you. You tried to change me!” Dorian’s voice broke, and he could feel his eyes stinging. 

 

    “I only wanted what was best for you!” Of course that would be his father’s reply. 

 

    “You wanted the best for you! For your fucking legacy! Anything for that!” Dorian felt a tear roll down his cheek, and he hated it. He hated his father for making him cry. He hated his emotions, for still caring about what his father said and did. He looked back at Kelasi, and her eyes were soft. She radiated sympathy, though he guessed he wouldn’t like what she had to say. 

 

    “Don’t leave it like this, Dorian. You’ll never forgive yourself.” She said it without judgement, and he knew that if he walked out she would support him. Dorian turned and marched back to his father. 

 

    “Tell me why you came.” There was no room for negotiation in his tone, though he knew Magister Pavus would take much longer to get to the point. 

 

    “If I knew I would drive you to the Inquisition…” his father responded. Nothing could have made him angrier. 

 

    “You didn’t. I joined the Inquisition because it’s the right thing to do. Once, I had a father who would have known that.” Some part of him still missed when his father cared about him, who taught him that Tevinter could be good, could be great, and it would someday be his job to make it that way. Some part of him hoped that his father could still be that way, although when his father closed his eyes and sighed, he lost hope. He headed for the door, ready to be done with this mess. 

 

    “Once I had a son who trusted me. A trust I betrayed. I only wanted to talk to him. To hear his voice again. To ask him to forgive me.” Magister Pavus meant it. That surprised him.  He turned to look back at Kelasi, and she nodded her head at his father. She left, he stayed, and he was alone with his father. 

 

   “I’ve been worried since you left. I knew what Alvina told me, and what was in your note, but I didn’t know if you would be safe.” His father looked him up and down now that he had the chance, no doubt counting fingers and toes, making sure that he was unharmed. 

 

    “I find it ironic that you were worried about my safety, when you had no idea how the blood magic ritual would affect me.” His tone was icy, and he knew that. Part of him wanted to forgive his father, and the other part of him was still so furious. Magister Pavus just sighed. 

 

    “It came from good intentions. It’s not an excuse, and I know that. I appreciated the fact that you were getting married. I was glad that you were coming around, and were going to help keep working to make the Pavus legacy continue. But I saw how miserable it was making you.” Halward paused to breathe, and Dorian wondered. He thought he had done a good job hiding how he felt. Clearly he needed to work on his diplomatic mask. Halward continued. 

 

    “I wanted to change you so that you could be happy, like I never got a chance to be. When you left… I realized what had happened, that you found the papers in my study. It took a while, but I realized I was trying to change the wrong thing.” Halward cleared his throat, trying to find more words. “You and I are alike, too much pride. I couldn’t admit when I was wrong while you were still around, and you never wanted to tell me your struggles.” Halward’s sad smile spoke volumes, although Dorian disagreed. It wasn’t pride, it was the fact that he knew Halward wouldn’t care. 

 

    “But I talked to Caidy’s mother. I told her that I was going to dissolve the engagement agreement, because my son’s happiness was worth more, and there would be other ways to achieve our goals. You’re free to live your life, loving who you want and being with who you want. I know you’ll do great things for Tevinter, if you ever decide to come back.” Halward looked nervous as he waited for Dorian to speak. Dorian didn’t think he could. This wasn’t what he wanted from this meeting with his father, though that was largely because he didn’t think it was an option. Halward didn’t break the silence, patiently waiting for Dorian. 

 

    “That… Wasn’t what I was expecting. It’s a lot to think about. I…” Dorian trailed off, and Halward continued. 

 

    “It’s alright. You don’t need to tell me anything tonight. I would like it if you would come home, but if you think the Inquisition is worth it, it will be. When you were growing up, I worried that you would be too much like me, and that you wouldn’t be like me at all. But you have the best part of me, the part that wants Tevinter to be better. Wants the world to be better. I’m proud of you.” Halward stepped towards him and stopped, realizing Dorian might not want him closer. It took another few seconds for Dorian to realize that he was waiting on a reply. 

 

    “I don’t want to go home right now. My place is here, making sure that the world doesn’t fall apart because of the sort of people you fight against back home. I… Need to go.” Dorian turned and walked outside, only to bump into Kelasi on the steps.

 

    “How’d it go?” she asked, her eyes searching his face for any clues. 

 

    “Good. Bad. Both. I… Don’t think I’m ready to talk about it yet. Can we wait until we get back to Skyhold?” Dorian knew he wasn’t making sense, but sense was something that was beyond him now. 

 

    His head was spinning for the entire journey back. Who was this man, and what had become of his father? He could love whoever he wanted, live with whoever he wanted. There would still be Alvina to contend with, for certain. If his father had come around it meant that there would be some way to maintain political power without a marriage. There would still probably need to be heirs, but… He could adopt those. The war in Seheron made enough orphans. 

 

    What was he going to tell Krem? This was such a huge change, and a contrast from what he’d been telling Krem for so long. Now that he could have Krem, would he want to? What if Krem had changed his mind, and moved on to someone who could give him more? So much of his life had been defined by what his father wanted, whether he was for it or against it. He didn’t think he would ever get used to the feeling of being able to choose for himself. 

 

    It didn’t surprise him when his thoughts weren’t settled by the time they made it to Skyhold. Krem wasn’t back yet, and for once, he was glad for it. Their relationship would change, one way or another, and it terrified him. He’d never had more than hurried encounters, never expected more. He had no idea how to do this, and hurting Krem was his worst fear. The library was a refuge, although even books couldn’t quiet his thoughts. He leaned next to a window and stared out it. The mountains were steady, and peaceful to look at. That’s where Kelasi found him. 

 

    “He says we’re alike. Too much pride. Once I would have been overjoyed to hear him say that. Now I’m not certain. I don’t know if I could forgive him.” His voice didn’t carry far, barely enough for Kelasi to hear him. 

 

    “What did he do, exactly?” Kelasi asked. 

 

    “He had a blood magic ritual. He was going to change me, shape me into someone who would live the life he wanted.” Dorian wasn’t expected her to look that appalled. It wouldn’t be that out of the ordinary in Tevinter. 

 

    “Can blood magic even do that?” She still looked stunned and horrified as she was talking. 

 

   “It might. It might also turn me into a vegetable. The fact that my father wanted to take the risk is what made me want to leave.” He turned his head to face her as he talked, turning back to the window when he was done. He was still on the verge of losing his temper, and he didn’t want to take it out on her. 

 

   “Are you alright?” she asked. 

 

    “No, not really.” He turned around. She said the one thing that would make his rage dissipate. “Thank you for bringing me out there. It wasn’t what I expected. But… It’s something.” He smiled. “Maker knows what you must think of me now, after that whole display.” 

 

    “I think you’re very brave. It takes courage to defy cultural norms and follow your own path.” She had an understanding smile on her face. She of all people would know that, a casteless dwarf on the surface leading a group centralized around the Chantry. 

 

    “Yes. Yes it does. At any rate, time to drink myself into a stupor. You’re welcome to join me if you like,” he told her with a smile. She shook her head, wandering upstairs to talk to Leliana. He headed to the tavern. Bull winked at him at the bar. 

 

    “Rough day?” Bull asked him. 

 

    “Yes. I was hoping I could drown it away with lots of alcohol here.” Dorian motioned for the barkeep, who came over with a glass of wine already poured. 

 

    “Ah, that’s sissy Tevinter liquor. You should try something real for change,” Bull told him with a smile. Dorian smiled back. 

 

    “That’s alright, I know my limits. I try not to go overboard, I indulged too much in my youth.” Something occurred to him. “Why aren’t you with your men burying Adamant in rubble?” 

 

    “Nah, they can run without me just fine. I’m supposed to be Kelasi’s bodyguard, you know. I trust Krem to lead them well.” Bull looked him up and down. “Are you doing alright, without him here? I don’t usually see you drinking in here, is all.” 

 

    “Yes. I had an interesting encounter with my father. He has rather different ideas about what to do with my life than I do, so it leads to frequent drinking urges.” Dorian sipped at his wine, savoring it. Josephine made sure to only get the best for the Inquisition. 

 

    “Sometimes I think the way the Qun do it is less complicated. I don’t have a father to worry about disappointing,” Bull replied. “Krem tells me that you do right by him, always have. That’s rare for a Vint. Let me know if you need help with everything. The families of my men are basically my men after all.” Bull slammed down the rest of his tankard and left it on the bar, wandering outside, probably to train with the rest of the men. This place just kept getting stranger.

 

    He stayed there in the inn, eating food and sipping at his wine for several hours. It was peaceful here, and the bard was always pleasing. She had such an interesting variety of songs, some of which she seemed to have written by herself. The normalcy of it all began to calm him, until Krem tapped him on the shoulder. When he looked up at Krem, Krem took his breath away. Even dirty, obviously tired from travelling, he looked delectable. 

 

    “Hey. Bull told me I could find you here, is everything alright?” Krem looked slightly panicked, and Dorian couldn’t blame him. He’d told Krem of his troubles with alcohol before, after all. 

 

    “I’m figuring out how to get there. Don’t worry, I’ve only had the one glass of wine. Actually, there’s something I need to talk about, can we go to our room?” Dorian asked Krem, nervous for a reason he couldn't entirely explain. Krem looked more anxious at that. “It’s not bad, I promise.” Krem nodded at him, and they headed off to their room together. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My symptoms got worse for a bit, so it took me longer than I would've liked to get this done. But it's done now, and here you are! This part was a joy to write, and I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it.

    Dorian’s heart thundered all of the way back to his room. He was hoping he’d have more time to figure out what to say to Krem. Krem squeezed Dorian’s hand, no doubt seeing how nervous he was. It made him smile at Krem, even as his heart sped up more. He had no idea how to handle this life, with a father who would support his choices. They finally made it to the room, and Dorian sat on the bed to take off his shoes. 

 

    “I’m not keeping you from your post travel bath, am I?” Dorian asked. He didn’t know what his face looked like right now, everything was so strange. Krem gave him a look. It was the one his mother would give him sometimes when she figured out that he was trying magic too dangerous to his age. 

 

    “My bath can wait until I’m sure you’re alright. Bull said it had something to do with your father?” Krem wasn’t even taking off his armor, solely focused on how Dorian was doing. Even covered in dust, tired from the road, no doubt tired of what he’d been living in, Dorian was what he attended to first. How wonderful to have someone care for him that much. 

 

    “It’s alright. My father… said good things this time. Well, mostly. I just don’t know how to handle it. I thought I was done with him, that I wouldn’t return until I was ready to take over his seat in the Magisterium.” Dorian paused, finding his eyes stinging. Krem stood incredibly still, not moving, look of concern still on his face. 

 

    “And… he told me that I was free. To live my life, love who I choose, and to worry less about politics. I don’t know what I want. I know that I care about you, probably more than I should. I’ve been so worried these past few months that I was taking advantage of you. I couldn’t give you the life that you deserved, but I couldn’t let go of you either.” Dorian willed the tear not to come rolling down his cheek, and he succeeded. He took a deep breath and swallowed, ready to start talking again only for Krem to stride forward. 

 

    “I don’t know how many times I can tell you. I don’t mind if I serve you, I don’t mind any way you need me to be there. I care about you, and for right now, serving you is a great joy in my life. If it ever got to the point where I needed it to change, I would tell you.” Krem ran a hand down his cheek, want written across his face. “I was worried I was making you uncomfortable with all of the touching, the things that I wanted from you. I’m glad to hear that wasn’t the case.” Krem’s hand felt soothing, and Krem bit his lip. He nearly groaned, seeing the want in Krem’s eyes. 

 

     “I’m not sure how much I can do, right now. It’s been a long few weeks without you, and everything that’s happened. But I do know that I would very much like to kiss you now.” Dorian reached up, ready to guide Krem’s face to his when Krem hauled him off the bed into a crushing hug. Krem’s lips pressed against his hard, and he felt Krem’s fingers slide into his hair and tug gently. He groaned, and felt Krem’s tongue slip into his mouth. Krem cupped his ass, holding him close and rocking slightly. 

 

     “I’m alright with that,” Krem told him sheepishly as he pulled back. Dorian could feel his cock pressing against Krem, and was glad Krem didn’t say anything about it. “And whatever you need, or however long it takes, that’s alright with me.” Krem rubbed his back, and Dorian sighed with contentment. His life was his now, and even though he wasn’t ready for more, wanting without guilt was wonderful. 

 

**. . .**

 

    The Inquisition was a flurry of activity most days. There were all sorts of plans and tasks before they were ready to go to the winter ball. He saw very little of Kelasi, although she made a point to check on him over the next few days. Krem would come visit too, and they would curl up in one of the library chairs. Krem would smell like soap from after his time training, and Dorian could hold his hand. Sometimes Krem would fall asleep, so Dorian kept books nearby to read when Krem was tired of talking. 

 

    Everyone smiled at them as they walked by, especially with Krem sleeping on his shoulder. Sometimes his arm would fall asleep. Not that he moved it, because he didn’t want to risk disturbing Krem. Sometimes his cock would be hard. When Krem woke up, he would feign surprise, and figure out how to subtly put pressure on it. Dorian would smile, put his book down, and it would be time for dinner. Krem would intermittently tease him through that. 

 

    It hadn’t progressed much farther than that yet, and Dorian was getting impatient. Part of him still felt unready, he wasn’t used to the idea that he could do what he wanted. This whole thing felt so very big, and he didn’t want Krem to end up picking up the pieces if he fell completely apart. Krem seemed more than content to wait, though a few of the Chargers approached him and offered congratulations for whatever he was doing to Krem’s mood. Dorian just smiled, pleased to be included so smoothly in Krem’s circle of friends. 

 

    The nights were the one thing about their relationship that hadn’t changed yet. They would sleep without shirts, enjoying the skin contact and the relief from the oncoming heat, but nothing ever went beyond that. They didn’t even kiss in bed yet, and Dorian wasn’t sure how he felt about it. This was still so new, and overwhelming. It baffled him that Krem waited this long, and was more than happy to continue being patient. 

 

     His mind kept asking one question over and over again. What did he want to do with his life? He had a choice now, about everything. Whether it was the people in his life, who he wanted to live with, how he would get heirs. So many choices, and there was no easy way to determine the right one. It amazed him that Krem could go about his life, with the only goal of keeping Dorian safe. Krem believed so strongly that he would be able to better Tevinter, and Dorian wished that he could have that much faith in himself. 

 

    For the most part, the Inquisition took him seriously. They believed him when he said he wanted to help, wanted to make Tevinter better. But outside of Skyhold, he could hear the whispers. Here was a Magister, all too willing to corrupt the Inquisitor. He would bring evil down up on their house because that’s what Magisters did. 

 

    It came to a peak one day with Mother Giselle, about a week after he’d gotten back from Redcliffe and the meeting with his father. She got into it with him, telling him all of the usual crap, that he was an undue influence and ruining Kelasi’s reputation. His one safe space, and she was all too happy to wreck it. Until Kelasi came up the stairs, anger stamped across her face. Mother Giselle looked up at her, and backed down. 

 

    “Oh… I…” She looked guilty, and Dorian almost felt bad for her. Almost. She was making life difficult for one of Kelasi’s people, and that wouldn’t do. Not on Kelasi’s watch. 

 

    “What’s going on here?” Kelasi’s tone was sharp, no doubt implying that she had heard the yelling and come running. 

 

    “It seems the revered mother is concerned about my undue influence over you.” Dorian’s arms were crossed tightly against his chest, as if they could somehow repel her words. 

 

    “It is just concern, your Worship. You must know how this looks.” Her tone condescended to Kelasi, as if she could have maintained her position as Inquisitor without an acute understanding of politics and impressions. She didn’t give in to fear, because she valued Bull, Dorian, and anyone else controversial. She included them in the Inquisition because she understood that she would shape the world, and she wanted it to be an inclusive one. Or she just valued her friends far more than her reputation. Knowing Kelasi, that was also a possibility. 

 

    “You might need to spell it out, my dear,” Dorian replied. He leaned back, bracing himself for what Mother Giselle would say next. 

 

    “This man is of Tevinter. His presence at your side… The rumors alone.” Even now, she was terrified enough of what Kelasi would think that she wouldn’t state something concrete. She shifted, almost nervous. She realized she made an error, at least. 

 

    “What’s wrong with him being from Tevinter? Specifically.” Her tone was inviting, almost making Kelasi sound stupid. He knew she wasn’t, and it took everything he had to not laugh at what she was doing. Delightful to watch Mother Giselle squirm. 

 

    “I’m fully aware that not everyone from the Imperium is the same,” Mother Giselle replied. Wasn’t that a load of crap. She sought him out, belittled the time and energy he put into the Inquisition, into stopping Alexius and Corypheus, because he was from Tevinter. His actions proved he was different. 

 

    “How kind of you to notice. Yet still you bow to the opinion of the masses.” His voice was sharp, and he struggled to hold back his anger. 

 

    “The opinion of the masses is based on centuries of evidence. What would you have me tell them?” Her retort damn near made his blood boil. Were there centuries of evidence, or were people from Tevinter not all the same? He hadn’t been responsible for catastrophes centuries ago. He wanted nothing to do with a Tevinter that tried to conquer Thedas, he spent his life fighting against such things, but here she was, ready to assume that he was just like everyone from his country. 

 

    “The truth,” he told her, though it came out more like a question. Kelasi rested a hand on his arm, and he stepped back slightly. She gave it a gentle squeeze, and turned as Mother Giselle readied to say more. 

 

    “The truth is that I do not know you, and neither do they. Thus, these rumors will continue.” She had the audacity to sound smug. A fire blazed in Kelasi’s eyes, although she didn’t show it. 

 

    “Are you implying that I am the sort of person to keep someone as a friend and personal advisor if they jeopardized the Inquisition?” Kelasi’s delivery was flawless, her voice controlled but implying the insult done to her honor. She’d been taking lessons from Josephine. Mother Giselle opened her mouth to speak, and Kelasi held up a hand. “To say nothing of the numerous times Dorian has risked his life in order to save mine, or to save the lives of others in the Inquisition. 

 

    “I mean no disrespect, Inquisitor, only ask after this man’s intentions. If you feel he is without ulterior motive, then I humbly beg forgiveness of you both.” She bowed, and then turned to go down the stairs. 

 

    “Well that’s something,” Dorian told Kelasi. He still felt sour, strangely itchy from the revered mother’s accusations. 

 

    “She didn’t get to you, did she?” Kelasi asked him. 

 

    “No. It takes more to get to me than thinly veiled accusations.” His voice was evening out, most of the anger draining out of him. He’d dealt with this all of his life, one more person adding fuel to the fire wouldn’t make a difference. Kelasi clearly didn’t think less of him. That counted for more than one person’s gossip. 

 

    “You don’t think she’ll do anything?” Kelasi asked him. His eyebrows raised. 

 

    “Do what? Yours is the good opinion I care about, not hers.” A horrible feeling came across him. “I should ask, do the rumors bother you?” Even if they didn’t bother him, he didn’t want Kelasi losing face when she should be focusing on building up the influence of the Inquisition. The look she gave him was worth asking. 

 

    “Only on your behalf. They don’t know you like I do, and I don’t like them to say such terrible things about you.” She was calm now, giving his arm another squeeze. He didn’t realize how much that relieved him, and he sighed. 

 

    “That’s a relief. I’d hate to think I brought you any grief.” He could feel the slight smile wanting to spread across his face, and Kelasi gave him a full one in return. 

 

    “Even if you do bring me grief, Dorian, you’re still worth having around. You’re my friend, and I wouldn’t have it another way.” She turned and walked down the stairs, as if she hadn’t just dropped a stunning revelation on him. Dorian just shook his head and wandered down to the room he shared with Krem. Reading there would be preferable, considering how little he wanted to interact with anyone right now.

 

    He’d added to his meager book collection since settling at Skyhold. Cassandra would bring him books about men who loved other men sometimes, and so would Leliana. Honestly, he was half convinced she’d gotten in touch with Mory, because there were fio men in many of the books as well. 

 

    Dorian blushed hot, thinking of the book he’d brought from Tevinter, and the shameful stain he left on it. It made him think of Krem, and he wondered if Krem ever wanted to have a cock like Charlemagne. He was torn between running down to the forge to see if he could get something made, and waiting to ask Krem. Common sense told him that if he waited to talk to Krem, it would be a better fit for him. 

 

    Several chapters later, he heard the door squeak open, and gave Krem a smile. He was baffled at the hungry look Krem was giving him, until he looked down and realized how hard he was. Krem looked transfixed, and moved forward to touch him, grinning when he twitched. It took a moment for his brain to catch up.

 

    “That’s really nice, and I’m glad you’re doing it. But we should probably talk about some things before more happens,” Dorian told Krem with the warmest smile he could muster. He took Krem’s hand and kissed it. “Why don’t you get out of your armor, and we can?” Krem looked worried. 

 

     “I… Okay.” He didn’t say anything more than that, and he started unbuckling straps. 

 

    “It’s not bad, I promise. I’ve just never slept with a fio man before, and I want to make sure I do it right. Would you like to wait until we can get you your own cock?” Dorian struggled to stay focused the more Krem undressed. His muscles stood out beautifully, and he could feel his cock tightening with need. Krem blushed, though it was hard to see as he was twisted around to undo the buckle for his pauldrons. 

 

    “No, that’s alright. I don’t think I need one. It might be nice to get one someday.” Krem pulled his pauldron off, and turned to look Dorian in the eye. “I think I’m too impatient,” he admitted, and then promptly flushed red. Dorian grinned. 

 

    “That’s alright. I just want this to be comfortable for you,” Dorian told Krem. Krem finished with the other pauldron, moving to taking off his bracers. Dorian realized he was staring, and blushed.

 

     “Is there something on my face?” Krem asked Dorian. 

 

    “No, I just like looking at you.” Dorian smiled, but his heart broke a little. “You’re very handsome, and I quite enjoy the view.” Had no one looked at Krem and told him that he was attractive? Maybe he was used to fielding much more harmful stares. Dorian knew how that went. 

 

    “Oh. Alright.” Krem was stuttering, and Dorian grinned. Krem flushed deeper, and went back to unbuckling his armor. 

 

     “Is there anything you don’t want me touching, or doing?” Dorian didn’t usually discuss encounters before they happened, but there was a huge difference between a quick fuck in the closet and something much more intricate. Not to mention that there was etiquette in Tevinter for such things, and he didn’t think any such thing existed for fio men. 

 

    “I’m… not sure, honestly. I haven’t done enough to know what I like and what I don’t.” Krem blushed again. He looked panicked for a moment. “I hope that doesn’t mean… I mean. You’re you, and you could find a partner with much more experience who would do a better job than I could.” 

 

    “I could. But they wouldn’t be you. I don’t want you because you’re sexually experienced, I want you because you followed me from Tevinter. You took care of me, you helped me learn how to take care of myself, and you worry after my well being.” Dorian was smiling gently, hoping Krem would look up from the floor. He didn’t, finally unstrapping his breast plate and working his way down to his greaves. “I can teach you what I like, and how to have sex with me. I don’t have to teach you how to care, and that’s what matters.” 

 

    “Alright.” Krem shifted uncomfortably, wiggling out of the rest of his armor. He breathed a sigh of relief. “And you don’t mind if I tell you if I don’t like something?” 

 

    “No, of course not. That’s part of the fun. I get to learn what feels good to you, and you can learn what feels good to me, and we’ll do this together.” Dorian stood up, and gently cradled Krem’s face in his hands. “And if you don’t want to have sex now, or ever, that’s alright too. I won’t love you any less.” 

 

    “I do want to, I’m just… Terrified, I think. That the way that I was born will change who I am to you, and that you won’t like me because I’m different.” Krem wouldn’t look up, even with Dorian’s hands on his cheeks. Dorian gently tilted his chin up. 

 

     “I would like to kiss you now. Would that be alright?” Dorian asked. Krem nodded and Dorian pressed their lips together. He barely avoided moaning, and Krem crushed him closer. His cock ground against Krem’s stomach, and Krem moaned against him. He ran his fingers through Krem’s hair, tugging gently and holding him closer. Krem picked him up, and laid him down on the bed, rocking his hips into Dorian. Dorian smiled, liking the needy look in Krem’s eyes. “See? You’re already good at this.” Krem blushed, and Dorian leaned forward to bite his lower lip. Krem moaned, rocking into him again. 

 

     “I feel silly for wanting this so badly,” Krem told Dorian. He couldn’t stop rocking, angling slightly so Dorian’s cock fell between his legs. Something slid just right, and Krem rocked harder, making small mewling noises. Dorian ran a hand down Krem’s arm, stopping at his hip. Krem arched into his hand, and Dorian moved his hand down to cup Krem. Krem rocked into his hand, and Dorian smiled. “I’ve always wondered what you would look like, naked.” Krem couldn’t speak very clearly. He was breathing hard, making occasional whimpering noises, and sometimes outright moaning. 

 

     “Well, then why don’t we find out? I’ve had similar wonders about you.” They both tumbled out of the bed, not wanting to stop touching each other, while also trying to undress. It was messy, and wonderful. When they were ready to get back in bed, they fought briefly over who got to be on top. Dorian won, though that was probably because he bit Krem’s neck, and Krem forgot what he was doing. All of the skin felt wondrous, and Dorian sighed as he started running his hands down Krem’s sides. “Let me know if I do anything you don’t like,” Dorian reminded Krem, sliding his hands down to Krem’s thighs and spreading his legs open. 

 

     He loved cocks, but this was also wonderful. Folds that opened and Krem, wet and dripping. He ran a finger down from Krem’s… He didn’t think clitoris fit, not really. Krem’s cock then, circling around his entrance. Krem moaned, arching into Dorian’s hand. Dorian circled a few more times, mesmerized. It was beautiful to watch Krem twitch, and moan, and gush. 

 

     “Would you like this inside of you?” Dorian asked, just barely pushing on Krem’s entrance. Krem whined in reply, rocking forward. Dorian smiled. “I’m being as gentle as I can right now, because I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t want to hurt you. Let me know if I need to change what I’m doing, alright?” Krem nodded, and Dorian slowly pushed his finger in. It was tight, so he didn’t go further. Krem was bucking underneath him, and Dorian could feel how much this was making him gush. 

 

     Dorian slid his finger in more, rubbing at Krem’s cock every so often. He could feel how needy his dick felt, but he was too busy to pay attention to it right now. It took a while, but eventually, he had his whole finger inside Krem, stroking up something velvety and soft. Gently, always gently, he rocked it in and out, grinning when Krem rocked back into his hand. He kissed Krem’s stomach, kissing a trail lower. He hesitated, looking up at Krem.

 

     “You have such a lovely cock that I want it in my mouth,” Dorian said, holding still for a moment. It didn’t matter, Krem bucked into him hard, clenching around his finger. Krem nodded, and Dorian kissed lower, spreading Krem open with his other hand. Dorian shaped his lips around Krem’s cock, sucking gently. Krem cried out, humping into his mouth. Dorian couldn’t grin, because his mouth was occupied, but this was delightful. Dorian wrapped his arm around one of Krem’s legs, pulling him deeper. He could feel Krem pulsing in his mouth, squeezing around his finger, rocking faster and faster. Eventually, Krem tapped on his head, and Dorian moved up to hold him. 

 

     “That was…” Krem sounded out of breath, and he looked ravished. It was a good look, and Dorian wanted to see him like that more. “That was incredible. Thank you.” 

 

     “Oh, believe me, that wasn’t all for you. I enjoyed that, very much,” Dorian told Krem as he pulled him close and kissed his head. Krem grinned at him, looking mischievous. 

 

   “I can tell, the way your cock is pressing into me.” Krem looked so smug when Dorian blushed. “I’m curious what that would feel like inside of me,” Krem told him with a hopefully look on his face. 

 

    “I am too, believe me. Maybe not tonight though,” Dorian replied. Krem’s face fell. 

 

    “I’ve been drinking the tea every day since you talked to me about what happened with your father. I wouldn’t end up pregnant or anything. Unless the idea is just... “ Krem trailed off, allowing Dorian to speak again. 

 

     “It’s not that at all, Krem, though I appreciate you telling me. One finger felt pretty tight, and I don’t want to hurt you, that’s all. I’d rather wait a while, and give your body time to adjust to this. I’m impatient for it, don’t get me wrong, but not so impatient that I want to hurt you.” Dorian kissed Krem, glad to feel him relax again. 

 

     “Alright. If you don’t want to do that tonight…” Krem curled a hand around his cock. “How would you like to take care of this?” Dorian’s hips rolled into Krem’s hand. When was the last time he came? He couldn’t even remember. There was no privacy here, nowhere he could leave a mess and not have someone know. “I did enjoy your mouth on me, so maybe I should return the favor.” Dorian nodded, and Krem rolled him over, petting his thighs. Instead of going for anything resembling a warm up, Krem slid Dorian’s cock all of the way into his throat and rocked. This wasn’t going to take very long. 

 

    “Do you want me to let you know before I…” Dorian trailed off, not sure how to end that sentence. Krem shook his head, bobbing up and down faster. It lasted for a minute, maybe two, and Dorian wrapped his fingers in Krem’s hair and rocked as hard as he could. His orgasm lasted long enough to surprise him, and Krem grinned at him. 

 

     “I’m glad you enjoyed that as much as I did,” Krem told him, wrapping Dorian in his arms, and pulling a blanket over them. Dorian sighed, content and at home. He could hear Krem’s heartbeat, with an ear pressed against his chest. He was sated, and knew that he would wake up with Krem beside him. Nothing made sleeping sweeter. 

 

**. . .**

 

    Dorian woke up to the slight pressure of Krem’s fingers in his hair. He opened his eyes, a smile on his face. Krem smiled back at him, leaning forward to give him a kiss. He groaned, leaning into Krem more. Krem’s hand stroked up and down his cock. 

 

    “Someone is happy to be awake,” Krem told him. Dorian blushed, cuddling in to Krem. 

 

     “Not wanting to do too much about it just yet. I’m enjoying this.” Dorian ran his fingers across Krem’s chest, resting a head on Krem’s shoulder. He could feel Krem’s hand in his hair, occasionally brushing his ear. He could hear Krem’s heartbeat, steady even as Krem was obviously enjoying himself. The smell of Krem was unmistakable, and he could smell plenty of himself around the room. This was more than he’d ever dreamed. He wanted to bask in the moment, enjoy what he was worried would be fleeting. But he wanted more, and he hoped Krem did. “What are you wanting from this? I can do what I want with my life, and right now… I want to spend it with you.” 

 

    “I never expected this. I don’t know if I wanted anything beyond this, even. But I enjoy this too. I could get used to you, waking up next to you naked.” Krem looked down at him. “Aren’t you worried what the other Magisters will think of me when you go back?” 

 

    “No. I don’t think I’ll worry about what people think about us again. It doesn’t matter to me, doesn’t even matter to my father any more, from what he was telling me. Alvina might care, but… My father wouldn’t give me this option if he didn’t have other ways of maintaining political power.” Dorian slid his hand down to rest on Krem’s stomach. “I’m going to need heirs, at some point. I don’t know if you would want to, or if that would make you uncomfortable. There’s always adoption, anyway.” Krem shrugged. 

 

    “I haven’t thought about it. I might not like that very much, because… It would give people the wrong idea. I wouldn’t care, but it might make people see me differently.” Krem kissed his forehead. Krem paused a moment, looking so content and at peace. There was so much love in Krem’s eyes. “And… I want to be around for as long as you will have me. You see me for who I am, whatever I look like. This was more than I ever though I could have, and it’s wonderful.” 

 

     “It’s more than I ever thought I could have, too. Such a strange turn that I get everything I want.” Dorian reached a hand up, pulling Krem down to kiss him thoroughly. He let go, running a hand down to gently cup Krem. “I think I know what I would like now.” Krem moaned into him, rolling so he was on top of Dorian. Dorian could feel Krem dripping down his cock, and his hand was still conveniently placed. He spread Krem open, sliding his cock between two fingers and rolling. Krem bucked into Dorian, and Dorian grinned. “Just how I like you.” Krem nodded, sliding forward enough to try and grind on Dorian’s cock. “No, just let me worry about you.”

 

     Dorian grabbed Krem’s hips, gently pulling until Krem straddled his face. He held Krem’s ass in both hands, rocking him gently into his mouth. This angle made it slightly more difficult to wrap his lips around Krem’s cock, but he managed, sucking gently. Krem rocked faster, moving with his hands. Dorian could feel Krem dripping down his chin, making all sorts of wonderful noises. Krem cried out and slid off of him, and Dorian turned to smile at him. 

 

     “I was thinking about having that in me, you know,” Krem told him as he stroked up and down Dorian’s cock. 

 

     “I know. But I meant it when I said I want to get your body more used to this. I don’t want to hurt you, even if it might feel good after the hurt.” Dorian rocked up onto his side, gently spreading Krem open and sliding in a finger. “But we can work on that some, if you want.” Krem nodded, arching into Dorian’s hand. Dorian felt magical, delighted to have this effect. Dorian gently pressed against Krem, trying to judge if there was room for another finger. He slid all the way out, gently rolled his second finger to make it slippery, and slid it back in. Krem arched into him. Dorian rolled over, holding his fingers as steady as he could, sucking on one of Krem’s nipples. Krem cried out, tapping Dorian as he finished. 

 

    “You…” Krem was trying to talk, but was utterly out of breath. Considering he’d seen Krem’s endurance at work, he was very proud of himself. Dorian laid down with his head on Krem’s chest, and Krem went back to petting his hair. “That felt amazing,” Krem eventually told him. When Krem reached out to return the favor, Dorian shook his head. 

 

    “I’m glad it was amazing for you. I don’t need anything right now. This is enough,” Dorian told him, wrapping Krem up in his arms. 

 

    “But what if I want to,” Krem told him, a small pout on his face. Dorian just pet his cheek. 

 

    “I know. But I’m content, with this, right now. Besides, I came so hard yesterday I don’t think my cock is up for a repeat performance, whatever it’s thinking. Knowing that you want this, that you want to continue having mornings like this, that’s all I need.” Dorian kissed Krem’s cheek, knowing Krem would be asleep shortly. When Krem was out, Dorian carefully slid out, picking up one of his books and slipping back into bed. He’d be there when Krem woke up again, and they could go to the inn and get a meal together. He nibbled on bread, biding time, thankful that the world outside of this room didn’t need his attention.

 

**. . .**

 

Dorian spent the next several days floating on air. He and Krem would spend as much time as possible in their room. Kelasi didn’t approach him, probably because she was off saving Ferelden. He didn’t mind too much, though when she approached him in the library, he smiled at her. She smiled back. 

 

    “Everything is together for us to go to Halamshiral. I’m asking around if people want to go…” She looked at him. “Would you come with me? I know you’re used to courtly manners, more than I am at any rate.” Dorian hesitated a moment before agreeing. She smiled broadly. “And yes, Krem can come too. I could use his experience as well, considering his role in your household.” Dorian was relieved to hear that, even if he didn’t want to try to hide what he and Krem had while they were at the winter palace. At the same time… Even if he was getting what he wanted, and a life with the man he loved, it wouldn’t do to ignore the world around him. He would never forgive himself if he let his values fall by the wayside. 

 

     “Alright, I can come with you. Ought to be interesting, see if it reminds me of home at all.” He set his book aside for a moment. “What have you been up to?” Kelasi made a face. 

 

     “I’ve been running errands in the Exalted Plains to try and build up support in Orlay. It’s… Working alright. We’ve made a difference in the area, though that’s impressing the servants more than the gentry.” Kelasi rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder about people. And then I remember what the Inquisition is supposed to be doing, and it surprises me less that people are being morons.”

 

    “I appreciate that you go out of your way to help the people who get left behind otherwise. Krem was one of those people, and even as much as it bothers me sometimes when we get detoured to fish a cat out of a tree or help an old woman find her lost wedding ring, it matters. It makes me proud to be a part of the Inquisition. So thank you for that.” Dorian cleared his throat. “But that’s enough of that. Did you learn any good gossip by helping these people out?” Kelasi grinned, feral and wild. 

 

    “Leliana was nearly crying tears of joy. We’ll certainly be in a better position. Even if it wasn’t in quite the same way I intended to. You know me, I’d rather kill them with kindness than blackmail, but at the end of the day, if it gets the job done, it gets it done.” Kelasi sighed, clearly frustrated. 

 

    “That reminds me of another lady I know. You know the one,” he told her, grinning at her in a way that told her he knew what was between her and Josie. Kelasi blushed. 

 

    “And what lady is that?” Kelasi replied, bluffing poorly. 

 

    “Oh, I think you know. Not like our ambassador to throw away a game of Wicked Grace like that. Something very special had to be moving her.” He crossed his arms above his chest, wide grin on his face. 

 

     “I don’t know that you have much room to talk, with the way Krem was making eyes at you the entire time.” Kelasi sounded defensive, not really used to banter in this way. Her arms were across her chest, mirroring his posture. 

 

    “Oh, I don’t have room to talk, I know. He and I make eyes at each other very much of the time. It’s just so unusual for Josephine to have tells like that. You must have done something utterly bewitching to gain her attention like that,” Dorian finished. His voice was somewhere between flirtatious and teasing, and it was very satisfying to see her flush. It was ruined soundly when Krem came up the stairs, kissing his cheek and grabbing his hand. Kelasi just smirked at him. He didn’t have a retort, considering the flush across his face. 

 

    “It’s good to see you,” Krem told her, oblivious to Dorian’s embarrassment. “How have you been?” 

 

     “I’ve been running errands for Orlesian nobles, in the hopes that they cared enough for their servants that it might give me some bargaining power. Unfortunately, they seem to be the only beings able to exist without hearts. I was going to ask you to come with me to the Winter Palace, when we’re ready. I already asked Dorian, I knew the two of you would want to go together.” Kelasi looked less flushed now, delighted by Krem’s interruption. 

 

    “I can see how Dorian would be useful. Give him ruffles, lace, and politics and he’ll be right at home. Unlike his uses outside of those situations.” Krem smiled at Dorian, a loving expression on his face. It took all of the sting out of Krem’s words, and Dorian couldn’t help but smile back. 

 

    “When do we leave?” Dorian asked, doing his best to took Kelasi in the eye, instead of staring at Krem. His efforts had mixed success. 

 

    “Day after tomorrow. Josephine has been arranging for correct court attire, and that will give our seamstresses enough time to tailor your clothes.” Kelasi waved and left, winking at Dorian on her way down the stairs. He just sighed, hugging Krem tight. It struck him again how seriously she took their relationship, and took it for granted that they would want to be together. It wasn’t less amazing now that their relationship had progressed. 

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! My health has been doing better, because I found a doctor who takes me seriously! Yay! Here's a chapter for you, a little early :). I hope you like it! We're getting closer to the end, somewhere between two and three more chapters.

    The journey to Halamshiral took much less time than he expected. It probably had something to do with the two squads of troops Leliana sent along for the express purpose of helping people. That was in addition to the regular troops to deter bandits, muggers, or other extremely stupid people who thought Kelasi would be easy pickings. Keeping Kelasi from joining in with the squads sent to help people was sometimes a challenge. But she was needed at Halamshiral, and Dorian would remind her of that as often as he needed to. Sometimes Krem would take over, when Dorian got too impatient. 

 

   Eventually they made it to Halamshiral, although he didn’t feel fit for a ball. He was covered in road dust, exhausted and worn down from having to keep Kelasi away from the people beaten down by the chaos. He had to argue with the part of her that felt compassion for everyone who looked hungry, cold, or alone. She’d grown up like that, and would do everything within her power to make sure no one else did. It was admirable, she was just the only thing between Orlais and a demon army, and more people would suffer if they didn’t take care of the situation. 

 

    Thankfully, instead of heading for the palace after a quick change, they stayed in an Orlesian house for a day. They spent the time getting formal wear tailored, discussing plans, and bathing. It was wonderful to rinse all of the dust off, although he still found formal wear confining. Krem was grinning as he put it on, no doubt thinking of what it would look like to take it off. He had a wonderful mind that way, even if the hour long reality of every button would fall short of a fantasy. 

 

    “Don’t you need to be getting dressed as well?” Dorian asked. He could feel himself flushing under Krem’s attention, his pants getting uncomfortably tight. Thankfully the Orlesian formal wear came with a hard metal cup, useful for blocking cheap blows and hiding arousal. Most of the outfit was like that, hiding function where he least expected it. There were dagger sheaths in his sleeves, although he wouldn’t be using them. 

 

    “No, actually. I’m going to be in servant clothes. They wanted to dress me down, so I can follow Kelasi and stay unnoticed.” Krem had a smile on his face, still enjoying Dorian in the formal wear. 

 

    “Why didn’t anyone ask me if I wanted to do it?” Dorian asked, slightly put out. 

 

    “Because you look like a noble, and you would even in peasant rags. Cassandra has no sense of subtlety and wouldn’t know how to act like a servant. And I, at least, have some experience reading a room.” Krem was still smiling, and Dorian was finished dressing. His hair would be another matter in a moment, but at least all of the complicated pieces of the outfit were on. He walked over and kissed Krem, who arched up against him. It was certainly one way to handle a smart mouth. 

 

    “Alright. Hopefully I’ll be close enough to help if something goes down.” Dorian sounded worried, and he hated himself for it. Some part of him would always feel better if he was there when Krem got in trouble. It was silly, considering Krem had way more training. Not to mention that Krem threw himself into danger to keep Dorian out of it. 

 

    “You’re always just in time, don’t worry about it,” Krem told him, sounding breathy from the thorough kiss. Dorian wanted to ravish him, but he knew he didn’t have enough time. This outfit took long enough to get into, and he still had to do his hair. 

 

    “Besides,” Krem told him, a cheeky grin on his face. “I didn’t want to get dressed while you were still here. Judging by the look in your eyes, we wouldn’t be done here for a while, and we’d make Kelasi late.” Dorian sighed. 

 

    “You’re annoying when you’re right, you know that?” Dorian kissed Krem again, moving to do his hair. He didn’t pay it quite as much attention, wanting to vacate the room so Krem could get dressed as well. Kelasi frowned at him, standing on a chair to fix it. She grinned when she was done. 

 

    “Ready to go to the viper’s nest?” she asked. He couldn’t tell if she was feeling humorous or nervous. Josephine had been giving her lessons. 

 

    “Well, it will probably remind me of home. I’ve almost been missing it.” Dorian sighed. “But if I’m lucky there will be less blood magic here than at home.” Kelasi smiled at him. 

 

     “I think we’re all hoping for that. Maybe that means we’re not needed and there won’t be a demon army to conquer Orlais. Wouldn’t that be nice, to have something work out in our favor for a change.” Kelasi wrung her hands out slightly, gave herself a shake, and straightened the shoulders of her outfit. “Just keep an eye out for me, and let me know if there are things I’m missing. I’m still new to this. I’ve had to learn so much way too quickly, and I’m amazed it hasn’t all fallen apart at the seams.” 

 

    “Maybe that’s a sign you’re Andraste’s chosen after all, whatever happened in the Fade. You have the tragic backstory, and either the best luck or the worst I’ve ever seen.” He was smiling, although he was worried for Kelasi. 

 

    “All of my training with the Carta involved thievery, or smuggling, or how to identify valuable jewels. Nowhere in any of that was advice for how to deal with the snobbiest nobles in all of Thedas. Josephine has been teaching me, so we’ll see how much I remember. I’m not very good at this sort of thing,” she told him. That made him laugh. 

 

    “You talk people out of trying to kill us all of the time.” 

 

    “Yes, but that’s usually because they’ve seen me kill several other people, and then decide that saving their skins is more important,” Kelasi said.  

 

    “Okay, so here we go. You’ll do just fine as long as you don’t kill any of the nobles. You can play up the mysterious and aloof angle, and even if none of the rest of us buy it, the nobles will. You’ll do fine, I’m sure. We’ll get this taken care of,” Dorian replied. He set a hand on her shoulder, and he turned to look at Krem coming down the stairs. He looked… different. Subdued, somehow. Just like a servant who would follow a master obediently, doing nothing more than what he was told. It didn’t suit him. 

 

    “Ugh,” Cassandra said as she entered the room. “Let’s get this over with. Make sure you get your weapons. I’m leaving them with the wagon, so Leliana’s people can smuggle them in for us if we have a need.” She looked like a wet cat in her formal wear. Not so much physically, but there was a great deal of disdain for what she was experiencing. She motioned at the door, and they headed out to the coach, joined by Gaspard. 

 

    They were silent for the entire carriage ride. Krem didn’t want to speak in front of a noble, that wouldn’t be good form. Kelasi seemed to be muttering something under her breath, and he smiled when he realized it was a genealogy chart for some of the nobles. He didn’t want to say anything to Cassandra, who was still looking like an offended cat, and he had no idea what to make of Gaspard. In Tevinter, he would be labeled a traitor. So would he, so that wasn’t the best judge, but it did seem rather brazen to launch a civil war over an established ruler. 

 

    The carriage ride ended eventually, though as soon as he stepped out, he realized he would rather spend the entire evening in an awkward silence than be here. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and braced himself. It would be good practice for when he returned to Tevinter, even if there was more focus on etiquette here. Krem winked at him from behind Kelasi, and the reminder that he wouldn’t be alone settled him. 

 

**. . .**

 

    They stepped out of their carriage and through the gate, splendid in formal wear. A troop of Inquisition troops filed in front of them, standing at attention and allowing Kelasi and Josephine to pass through them, Dorian and Cassandra behind them. Krem was further behind, not wanting to intrude in a way that a servant wouldn’t. His heart thundered as Gaspard walked up to them. 

 

    “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Inquisitor Cadash. The rumors coming out of the Western Approach say you battled an army of demons.” Gaspard stopped when Kelasi passed through the ranks of soldiers, crossing his arms over his chest. “Imagine what the Inquisition could accomplish with the full support of the rightful Emperor of Orlais!” Dorian narrowly resisted making an incredulous noise. That was blatant of him, and they hadn’t been here for very long. 

 

    “And which one was the rightful one, again, I keep getting them confused,” Kelasi replied, her tone as bland as if she were choosing what to eat for dinner. Josephine had a pleased smile on her face, while Gaspard looked affronted. 

 

    “The handsome charming one, Inquisitor,” Gaspard eventually replied. “I am not a man who forgets his friends, Inquisitor. You help me, I’ll help you.” He turned toward the palace, walking towards the entrance. “My lady, are you prepared to shock the court by walking into the Grand Ball with a hateful usurper?” In parade style, he turned on one heel to face Kelasi again. “They will be telling stories of this into the next age.” He sounded like the cat who got the cream. So cavalier for someone who was burning entire towns in the fights between him and Celene. 

 

  
    “There’s a Tevinter assassin on the loose, finding him is my first priority.” Kelasi’s control slipped, a fire creeping into her eyes. She was not fond of people who played games with the lives of others. 

 

    “Are you serious? This is a grave accusation. For another nation to interfere in a time such as this…” Gaspard trailed off, mask falling back into place. “As a friend, perhaps there is a matter you could undertake this evening. This elven woman Briala - I suspect she intends to disrupt the negotiations. My people have found these “ambassadors” all over the fortifications. Sabotage seems the least of their crimes. 

 

    “That sounds like something I should look into,” Kelasi said, diplomatic mask firmly back in place. Gaspard sighed. 

 

    “Be as discreet as possible. I detest the Game, but if we do not play it well, our enemies will make us look like villains. We’re keeping the court waiting, Inquisitor. Shall we?” Gaspard turned and marched toward the door, leaving Kelasi in the courtyard. A few people made disparaging remarks about dwarves, and one woman was crying about having lost her ring. Kelasi found it in a fountain, and handed it back with more grace than he would’ve been able to muster. 

 

    Kelasi took a few minutes to wander around the courtyard, talking to nobles. Most were surprised that she was a dwarf. A few talked about the civil war in hushed tones, trying not to let their voices carry. From what he heard, the body counts were enormous. Orlais was a very strange country, to have such an enormous war that people were terrified to discuss. Not that Tevinter was much better, now that he thought about it. 

 

    She took a deep breath before walking to the gate, her people behind her. The two guards looked bored, and waved her through. Krem would be admitted later, after the official announcement. Dorian’s heart thundered when he had to leave Krem behind, though he prospect of facing the court didn’t agree with him either. Josephine stopped Kelasi before they made it all of the way in. 

 

    “Inquisitor, a moment, if you please?” Josephine sounded worried, her eyebrows drawn down her face. “I must warn you before you go inside: how you speak to the court is a matter of life and death. It is no simple matter of etiquette and protocol. Every word, every gesture is measured and evaluated for weakness.”

 

    “I’ll keep my guard up, don’t worry,” Kelasi reassured Josephine. She took Josephine’s hand for a moment, squeezing gently before letting go. 

 

    “The Game is like wicked grace played to the death. You must never reveal your cards. When you meet the empress, the eyes of the entire court will be upon you. You were safer in the fade with the fear demon,” Josephine told her with a small shrug. She looked horrified, as though she would rather do anything than subject Kelasi to these people. 

 

    “It might be a good idea for everyone to hear this warning,” Kelasi told her, keeping her voice low. Dorian could hear her right now, so she probably didn’t mean him. Krem, maybe. “Cassandra… Is usually not the subtle or cautious type.” That almost made him laugh. 

 

    “I’ll have a few… Discreet words,” Josephine replied. “Everything will be fine.” Josephine dropped her hands from the wringing they were doing a moment ago, and Kelasi walked past her. “Andraste watch over us all,” was the last thing he heard before Josephine was too far away. 

 

    In the vestibule, there was a group of nobles arguing if it should be called a vestibule. Clearly it was either a foyer or an antechamber. That made Dorian roll his eyes. There was gossip here and there, people talking about the civil war, the Inquisition, and the lyrium trade. There was some new supplier, from what the dwarves were saying. Cassandra looked like a wet cat, thoroughly unhappy about being here. Cullen looked nervous, although he was fielding longing stares from many of the women. It made him smile, even as he was waiting to hear biting words about his heritage. Kelasi finally moved on to the Grand Ballroom, where they could be announced. 

 

    There was a bit of an awkward pause as the servants directed them to where they should be. There were small, not quite formal bows between them. Guards slid into place, and the nobles in the ballroom grew quiet. Gaspard led down the staircase, Kelasi a bit behind him. 

 

    “And now presenting: Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons. And accompanying him… Lady Inquisitor Cadash!” The servant presented, and Kelasi bowed to Celene before moving down the stairs. “Vanquisher of the rebel mages of Ferelden, crusher of the vile apostates of the mage underground!” Kelasi strode forward, just hitting the stairs. “Champion of the blessed Andraste herself.” Gaspard murmured something to Kelasi that Dorian couldn’t quite hear, and the presenter read on. “Accompanying the Inquisitor: seeker Cassandra Allegra Portia Filomena Calogera Filomena -”

 

    “Get on with it!” Cassandra said through gritted teeth, moving forward to join Kelasi. The presenter took it in stride, although Josephine was glaring at Cassandra. 

 

    “...Pentaghast. Fourteenth cousin to the King of Nevarra, nine times removed. Hero of Orlais, right hand of the Divine.” There was a small pause before he read Dorian’s introduction. “Lord Dorian Pavus, member of the Circle of Vyrantium, son of Lord Magister Halward Pavus of Asariel. Her serving man, Krem,” was all Krem received before the announcer moved on. “Sir Cullen Rutherford Stanton of Honnleath, commander of the forces of the Inquisition, former knight commander of Kirkwall. Lady Leliana, Nightingale of the Imperial court, veteran of the fifth blight. Seneschal of the Inquisition and left hand of the Divine. And Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet of the city of Antiva, ambassador to the Inquisition.” 

 

    As they were announced, all of the advisors fell in line, walking up to present themselves to Celene. It wasn’t terribly different from how Tevinter did it. Way too much pomp and circumstance for too little reward. Kelasi didn’t need all of this to be recognized, or to have her accomplishments known. People took her seriously, and trusted her with their lives because of who she was. It was all a bit aggravating, really, but he stopped himself from fidgeting and paid attention. Tevinter would expect this of him, so he may as well get the practice in. Everyone fell into place, and Gaspard moved up. 

 

    “Cousin. My dear sister,” Gaspard said, coldness slipping in to his voice. Celene merely curtsied in reply. 

 

    “Grand Duke. We are always honored when your presence graces our court.” Celene’s tone was neutral, with a hint of warmth. She clearly practiced, making sure to not convey anything other than the words she was saying. 

 

    “Don’t waste my time with pleasantries, Celene. We have business to conclude,” Gaspard retorted. The court took a breath in, clearly displeased at his tone.

 

    “We will meet for the negotiations after we have seen to our other guests,” Celene told him, courtly manners still firmly in place. Her slight hand motions conveyed that his behavior was reprehensible. He gave a mocking bow in reply, and she turned to Kelasi. 

 

    “Inquisitor,” he told her, moving away. His voice sounded angry, and Dorian shook his head. He had to have known what he was getting into by coming here. Brash behavior wouldn’t win him any favors, not in this court. 

 

    “Lady Inquisitor, we welcome you to the Winter Palace. Allow us to present our cousin, the Grand Duchess of Lydes, without whom this gathering would never have been possible.” Celene motioned to the masked woman next to her, who then spoke. 

 

    “What an unexpected pleasure. I was not aware the Inquisition would be part of our festivities. We will certainly speak later, Inquisitor,” she said as she left. Dorian wasn’t certain, but her tone seemed to give something away there. As to what, he wasn’t sure. But it was something. 

 

    “Your arrival at court is like a cool wind on a summer’s day,” Celene told her. Dorian didn’t buy that, but her delivery was good. He wondered if she knew they were coming. 

 

    “I am delighted to be here, your Majesty,” Kelasi replied with a small bow. She wasn’t, he knew, but no one else would be able to tell. 

 

    “We have heard much of your exploits, Inquisitor. They have made grand tales for long evenings. How do you find Halamshiral?” Celene asked with a slight flirt to her voice. 

 

    “I’ve never found anything to equal the Winter Palace,” Kelasi replied. It was true, even if she might not mean it in a kind way. 

 

    “We hope you will find time to take in some of its beauties. Feel free to enjoy the pleasures of the ballroom, Inquisitor. We look forward to watching you dance,” Celene told her as she gave a deep bow. Kelasi ascended the stairs, moving over to Leliana. 

 

    “Inquisitor. A word, when you have a moment,” Leliana said as she left the room. Kelasi breathed a sigh of relief, and they moved into a slightly less charged room. Leliana had talked to them before hand, and he knew what he was supposed to do. Find a quiet spot, not make trouble, and see if he could overhear anything useful, whether to their mission or from the court in general. The garden seemed like a decent enough place. He could sip at wine, loiter by the many groups of people trying to chat in the relative privacy. 

 

    Most of what he overheard was petty gossip. Rumors of one affair or another, people sharing details of war casualties and other things Leliana already knew. People wrinkled their noses when they talked to him, or even saw him. It didn’t bother him too much, it was what he expected. Occasionally he would see Krem and Kelasi. Krem would carry drinks, pass notes, and generally act like someone Dorian didn’t recognize. Until Krem was boosting Kelasi up the garden trellis. He raised his eyebrows, talking to the group of people near the fountain in an attempt to distract them. 

 

    Dorian spent his time worrying until he heard the bells go off for part of the ceremony. He saw Kelasi go by him, and he and all of the guests wandered over to the ballroom. Kelasi was talking to a woman in a purple dress, with a number of lavish decorations. She made his hair stand on end, for reasons he couldn’t understand. She passed Kelasi something, and then headed back to Celene’s side. 

 

    Krem came to get him not long after. There wasn’t much of an explanation, but he was told to wait near the guest quarters. Cassandra joined them, and there was a tense few moments before Kelasi arrived. He never knew what to make of Cassandra, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Krem’s footsteps on the stairs. Kelasi pulled a key out of her pocket, and they stepped through the doors to the servant’s quarters. 

 

    The door swung open to a bloody mess. There was a corpse in front of them, with blood splatters everywhere. There was a small bundle waiting for them, full of all of their armor and weapons. Everyone got dressed silently, lending a hand here and there. It took Dorian a moment to realize that everyone was as horrified as he was. They were just better at hiding it. Fully dressed, Kelasi moved forward to examine the body. 

 

    There were stab wounds, and other than that, there wasn’t anything she learned. She led them slowly and carefully through the quarters, searching as always. Her bow was strung and in close reach, expecting danger. The only thing she kept finding was bodies. Everything was clean and tidy, aside from the blood stains. It was a jarring contrast to see vegetables neatly lined up and pots neatly hung up. There were even finished dishes that hadn’t made it to the party yet. Kelasi went out to the gardens after finding nothing more than a Halla statue. 

 

    Everyone was still on edge, the smell of raw blood lingering even out here. The garden arches blocked everything from sight, to the point that Dorian tripped over another body and almost gagged. He forced himself to turn away, and take a deep breath. The air still smelled tainted, but he willed his stomach to settle. Krem squeezed his hand, and he went back to walking. They stumbled upon another body, a dagger with the Chalon crest protruding out of it. 

 

    “This was no servant. What was he doing here?” Kelasi asked, careful not to put her feet in the blood. 

 

    “Is that the Chalons family crest? What have you been up to, Gaspard?” Dorian asked, staying as far away as he could. 

 

    “Time to have a word with the Duke,” Kelasi replied. An elven serving girl ran towards them, fearfully looking over her shoulder. A person dressed in a harlequin outfit bounded up to her, slitting her throat from behind. She was chased by three warriors in Venatori get up, and the Harlequin jumped out of the way and up a balcony, leaving them to contend with the agents. They made quick work of them, moving further through the garden. 

 

    More and more Venatori agents showed up, trying to prevent them from reaching the Harlequin. There was a group of apartment buildings, also full of Venatori and various art. How strange to have so much of the palace unpatrolled by guards. Unless the guards were all dead now at the hands of Venatori. It was sloppy, whatever had happened. 

 

    The apartments flew by in a blur. He couldn’t remember which rooms they’d been in, more focused on making sure that the Venatori trying to kill them didn’t succeed. Kelasi led them through the rooms, giving each one a quick search before she moved on, eventually up some stairs. A room with statues covered by sheets led to a room full of Venatori, easily handled. The last one tried to run away, only to get a dagger to the face. A masked elven woman stepped forward. 

 

  
    “Fancy meeting you here,” she told them. If Dorian had to guess, this was Briala. “I have to congratulate you on being the only Carta thug ever invited to court.” She fiddled with her gloves. “We haven’t been properly introduced, have we? I’m Ambassador Briala.” Kelasi stared at her, as if waiting for her to apologize for the insult. 

 

    “I’m glad to finally meet you,” she replied. That impressed him. If someone called him a thug, he would want to do something suitably thuggish. 

 

    “Your reputation for getting results is well deserved. It will take a month to clean all of the Tevinter blood off the marble. I came to save or avenge my missing people, but you’ve beaten me to it.” She walked up the stairs to a balcony, and Kelasi followed her. “So… The Council of Heralds’ emissary in the courtyard… That’s not your work, is it?” 

 

    “He was dead when I found him,” Kelasi replied. 

 

    “You may have arrived with the Grand Duke, but you don’t seem to be doing his dirty work. I knew he was smuggling in chevaliers, but killing a council emissary? Bringing Tevinter assassins into the palace? Those are desperate acts. Gaspard must be planning to strike tonight.” Briala sounded incredulous that Gaspard would dare, but Dorian didn’t fully believe it. Gaspard wasn’t the subtle type, not by a long shot. Something like this would require tact and diplomacy. Tevinter wouldn’t approve of someone unwilling to play political games, and Briala no doubt knew that. 

 

    “Are you sure he’s behind this? He was too… easy going for  man plotting treason,” Kelasi replied. She was staring down Briala, unsubtly trying to call her bluff. 

 

    “Don’t let his charm fool you. He’s Orlesian. That smile is his mask.” Briala crossed her arms in front of her chest, her chin jutting out slightly. She was trying to stare down Kelasi, and Dorian knew how well that would end for her. She uncrossed her arms. “I misjudged you, Inquisitor. You might be an ally worth having.” So… she insulted Kelasi outright, insinuated that Kelasi wasn’t very intelligent, and that somehow made her a worth ally? This felt off, for a whole host of reasons. “What could you do with an army of elven spies at your disposal? You should think about it.” Kelasi sighed, looking at her feet before looking Briala in the eye. 

 

    “What do I have to give you in exchange for your army of spies?” she asked. She radiated defiance, and he could tell that she was enjoying the chance to be blunt for once this evening. 

 

    “A moment of your consideration, that’s all. I know which way the wind is blowing. I’d bet coin that you’ll be part of the peace talks before the night is over,” Briala continued. Dorian would bet that same coin, almost entirely because everyone was trying to get on Kelasi’s good side. “And if you happen to lean a little bit our way? It… could prove advantageous to us both. Just a thought.” She slipped down the balcony. 

 

    “More politics and double-dealing. Is there anyone here who is not corrupt?” Cassandra asked. Dorian could answer that. No, everyone here was corrupt. 

 

    “There’s so much conniving and backstabbing here, it makes me homesick,” Dorian replied. Less blunt. Equally satisfying. 

 

    “Now I know I’m usually the last person to complain… But Briala is very new to courtly manners and intrigue, isn’t she?” Kelasi asked. “Not that anyone managed to be particularly subtle. There’s not an option that includes burning the entire palace to the ground and setting someone with sense on the throne, is there?” Krem spoke up. 

 

    “I think that’s why we’re here really, to prevent that from happening. Not that Corypheus could be said to have sense.” Krem smiled, and it was contagious. Even Cassandra couldn’t resist a small grin. Though she would, of course, deny it if anyone asked. 

 

    Kelasi slid down the same way Briala did, pausing to grab a Halla statue. The followed her around the corner, past two elven agents, and paused at the gate to put their formal wear back on. It was more difficult to do with a puddle of blood there, and the knowledge that if there were blood stains, it would mean the end of whatever they were trying to accomplish. They walked through the gate, and Dorian snuck back to his garden, pausing to get wine along the way. 

 

    It didn’t take too long for Krem to come and fetch him again, and they headed over to the private quarters wing of the palace. It felt more than a little dirty, being in a place so few people were allowed. It felt very sterile, for something that was supposed to be a home. He knew all about that, living in Tevinter. It was just… Eerie to see stern portraits overlooking hallways, and statues occupying alcoves. 

 

    They heard screaming, and Kelasi was quick to run toward the source. An elven girl was there, being stood over by an armed harlequin. He was getting tired of seeing that outfit, for certain. Surely there were better clothes people could wear. She had been sent here by Briala, because she was one of the few people alive who knew that Briala had been sleeping with the empress who purged the alienage. An interesting world where the elven servant WASN’T the scandalous party. 

 

    There was another person who was calling for help, though they were behind a door locked with Halla statues. Kelasi placed the statues in the slots, and the door opened. Gaspard’s captain of the guard was there, and he explained that Celene had goaded Gaspard into attacking the palace, so she could arrest him for treason. Cassandra wasn’t pleased with either Gaspard or Celene for that, because it was a dirty trick and because it was stupid to fall for it. 

 

    They moved on, past a body to hear yet another person screaming for help, along with the familiar sounds of a rift. This country was a MESS and that was coming from an Altus from Tevinter. They had to TRY to let things get this bad. Dorian shook his head, ready for Kelasi to open the door. Only to find a large group of people with bows aiming at them. Isn’t that always how it ended up? 

 

    “Inquisitor! What a pleasure! I wasn’t certain you’d attend. You’re such a challenge to read, I had no idea if you’d taken my bait.” Florienne walked from behind the statue, pleasure curling around her voice. She was very smug for someone who was getting played by Corypheus. 

 

    “I had a feeling you were mixed up in all this,” Kelasi said, exasperated to the core. He didn’t blame her, he didn’t like cleaning up other people’s messes either. 

 

    “Such a pity. You could almost be orlesian if you were just a little quicker.” Only an Orlesian would find that a compliment. “It was kind of you to walk into my trap so willingly. I was so tired of your meddling. Corypheus insisted that the empress die tonight, and I would hate to disappoint him.” She looked smug, all of the diplomatic body language gone. Kelasi smiled at her. 

 

    “At this point, I’d think disappointment was an old friend,” she replied. Dorian was trying not to laugh. Laughing while people have bows pointed at your face is a terrible plan. 

 

    “You poor, deluded thing. You don’t know half of what Samson and I have planned.” Florianne was still grinning, and Dorian sighed. No one ever figured out not to mess with Kelasi. The world would be a much better place if people just… Gave up after she was done with them. “And now, I suppose, you never will. In their darkest dreams, no one imagines I would assassinate Celene myself. All I need is to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike. A pity you’ll miss the rest of the ball, Inquisitor. They’ll be talking about it for years. Kill her and bring me her marked hand. It will make a fine gift for the master.” She walked off, and Kelasi rolled through a storm of arrows to fully open the rift. 

 

    Flinging it open pulled the soldiers toward it, dissolving them and trying to drag them into the fade. Any demons that came out were wraiths, easily dealt with. Florienne expected this to delay them? Corypheus had to have gotten spy reports by now, surely he would know better than this. Kelasi sealed the rift, and they moved to the man who had been making all of the noise. 

 

    “Andraste’s tits! What was all that? Were those demons? There aren’t any more blasted demons coming, right?” The man stood up, rubbing his wrists.

 

    “No more demons. It’s safe,” Kelasi told him. 

 

    “I’ve never seen one that up close before. I knew Gaspard was a bastard, but I didn’t think he’d feed me to fucking horrors over a damn bill.” His eyebrows were drawn down his face, and judging by his profanity laden speech, he was not having a good day. 

 

    “Gaspard lured you down here?” Kelasi asked. 

 

    “Well, it was his sister. But it had to have been him, right? All of that garbage she was spewing doesn’t mean anything. Gaspard had to be the mastermind,” he replied. 

 

    “Your accent sounds Ferelden. I thought you were one of Gaspard’s mercenaries,” Kelasi said. 

 

    “I was born and raised in Denerim, I run a mercenary company there. The Duke wanted to move on the palace tonight. But he didn’t have enough fancy chevaliers. So he hired me and my men. He had to offer us triple our usual pay to come to Orlais. Stinking poncy cheesemongers.” He spit on the last word, 

 

    “Want a new job? One that pays better? The Inquisition can always use a good mercenary company,” Kelasi offered. 

 

    “You hiring? I’m game. Anything’s better than this bullshit. You want me to talk to the empress, or the court, or sing a blasted song in the Chantry, I’ll do it.” He walked out, and they moved on, entering another part of the palace. It looked like a chapel, and like everything else here tonight, it was full of Venatori. Down the stairs from the chapel, kill some more harlequins and Venatori, and they could turn down two more hallways to end up back in the ballroom. This place was a maze, and an infested one at that. 

 

    Kelasi spoke to Cullen, and decided that Florianne should be allowed to assassinate the empress. The speech was tense, knowing what was about to happen. He was still unsure of whether or not this was the right choice, but there had to be a better option than this. Celene finished her speech, Florianne taunted Gaspard, and then stabbed through Celene’s spine. She taunted Gaspard some more, blaming him for this attack, and the chase was on. 

 

    Florianne killed more guards on the way out, calling for her forces to kill the rest of them in the name of Corypheus. They tore after her, jumping and rolling through the same doors she did. Eventually, she drew her bow, leaving it pointed at them. 

 

    “I should thank you, Celene and Gaspard both taken down with one blow. The demons of Adamant were not his only army. The empire will fall. And Thedas with it.” She seemed so smug about the destruction of the place where she was supposed to live. Alexius could attest to how well that worked. 

 

    “Listen to yourself. You can’t possibly want to see the world burn.” Kelasi held her arms out, trying to prevent Florianne from doing something stupid. She could’ve saved her breath. 

 

    “From the ashes, a new glorious world will arise. Corypheus will be its god and I his empress. Your death will be the crowning jewel of my victory tonight.” She slammed the gate behind them, disappearing in a puff of smoke.  “So good of you to attend my soiree,” she told them, and the fight started. 

 

    It went by in a blur, Florienne disappearing to more and more improbable locations while Kelasi tried to call them out. She was quick, able to dodge most of their blows, somehow parrying hits that she shouldn’t have been able to see. Eventually she fell, unable to evade them forever. Kelasi paused a moment to catch her breath, wiping sweat from her eyes. Krem handed her a water skin, and she smiled at him. Cassandra was pacing back and forth, eager to get back to the ballroom, so they headed in that direction, walking back through the gates to the main palace. Kelasi just sighed when she heard Briala and Gaspard arguing. 

 

    “You guys may as well wait out here. This is just going to be a whole lot of shouting, and only one of us needs to hear it.” She waved them away, and they headed to a different balcony. There was still music playing, and Krem held out his hands expectantly. Krem led, which took Dorian a moment to get used to. No one bothered them, and it felt wonderful to whirl around in Krem’s arms. The music ended, and Dorian kissed Krem, deliriously happy. Whatever happened to Orlais, or the rest of the world, he got to dance with the man he loved.

 

**. . .**

 

When they made it back to Skyhold, Dorian collapsed on their bed with relief. He’d already rinsed off the travel dust at the baths, and shed as  much clothing as he wanted. He was under the covers, hearing the soft sounds of Krem taking off his armor. His eyelids felt heavy, and he was almost drifting off when he felt Krem curl around behind. 

 

“I’m glad Kelasi left Briala holding the reins,” Krem told him, softly petting his stomach. That startled him awake. 

 

    “Why? She doesn’t have much experience running a country. I’m worried about her ability to handle diplomacy, and the intricacies of running an army,” Dorian replied. He found it utterly horrifying how Briala had been thrown into ruling without experience to speak of. He could feel Krem shifting, and his tone sounded strained. 

 

    “She can learn those things. But she doesn’t have to learn how to advocate for her people. The elves in Orlais… They’ve been suffering for as long as they can remember, and she wants to do something to help that. I know she wasn’t perfect, when she sent that woman into the room to get murdered. But she fought for the alienage, and fights for elves.” Krem paused, and Dorian heard a wet swallow. “I know how so many magisters would see my father, or me, or my mother. I would be nothing more than my blood or my back, and they would use me up until I didn’t have anything left of either.” Dorian shifted, about to open his mouth when Krem continued. “And I know you’ll deny it, and say that your parents aren’t like that. But that’s the point. Your parents aren’t like that. They can’t say anything, or do very much about the other Magisters, who are.” Krem inhaled sharply through his nose, and Dorian could hear the tears he was trying to choke back. He was trying not to panic. He rested his hands on Krem’s, gently petting. 

 

    “You’re right. I know you’re right. There’s not much my parents can do about the other magisters, and that has more to do with politics than desire.” Dorian trailed off. He didn’t know how to admit that sometimes, the things he believed were wrong at heart. More than anything, Krem showed him that. 

 

     “My father was almost one of those people. I wouldn’t have been able to see him, if it weren’t for Alvina. He would probably be used up, and fit for…” Krem started sobbing, and Dorian rolled over to cradle Krem to his chest.

 

    “I’ll make sure that nothing like that will ever happen to your family. Me and Alvina, and father, I’m sure, will take care of it.” Dorian pet Krem’s hair, and was startled when he shoved away. 

 

    “That’s not the point! I don’t just want my father and mother to be safe. I want to live in a world where I don’t have to worry about anyone getting sold for blood fodder, or where rulers can randomly decide to kill an entire group of people because those people are inconvenient!” Krem realized he was shouting, and quieted down. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the hiccups he would get occasionally. 

 

    “You’re right,” Dorian said, pulling Krem closer. Krem let him, which was a relief. “And I want to make Tevinter like that, too. Maybe that’s something Kelasi would be willing to help with, and that’s something I can work towards, and work with my father on working towards. You matter to me, and I want to take care of you and your loved ones for as long as you want me to. But it’s not enough to do that, because everyone has something to give. If there’s one thing the Inquisition has taught me, it’s that people mean something, and will do the extraordinary given the opportunity.” Dorian kissed Krem’s forehead, and held him close. 

 

    “That’s why I love you, you know. Even when you don’t get it right, you do your best to learn how to,” Krem told him.

 

    “And I love you because even when I’m being insensitive, or I don’t understand something, you explain it to me. You have faith in the good parts of me when I doubt they exist,” Dorian said as his voice broke. “I haven’t really… You’ve been here since I’ve lost Felix, so I haven’t been without it. But he was a person who wouldn’t let me hide behind my own cowardice. He knew what was right, and he wanted to do it, and having you do that for me reminds me of him. In a good way, and he was like my brother, so there’s definitely a difference. Right now, it just feels like I don’t need to let go of him, entirely in order to be able to move on.” 

 

    “Of course you don’t need to let go of him entirely. What made you think that?” Krem asked. 

 

    “I didn’t want to be like Alexius. When Felix was done fighting, and when he was ready to die… I wanted to be there for him. I wanted to be able to tell him that I would be alright, I would look after his father, and I would let him go. I would not be like Alexius, focusing so hard on trying not to lose him that I wouldn’t spend any time with him.” Dorian could feel the stinging in his eyes that meant he might cry, but years of long practice kept his voice steady. 

 

    “You can hold on to the good memories of him without holding too tight. He was your brother. That means something, and you’ll always have it. He meant a lot to you. You’re helping him live on the right way, really. Instead of convoluted tricks or something, you see what he stood for, and you try to pass that on.” Krem stroked his cheek, curling around Dorian. Dorian sighed, feeling warm and sleepy. His heart still hurt, stinging with grief, and he could tell that Krem was still upset. The tired was just winning, and he could feel Krem relaxing as he drifted off as well. There would be more time to talk, and feel, in the morning. Sleep would make it better for now. Sleep, and being safe at home. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for staying with me! This is my longest chapter yet, and I enjoyed being able to write this and share it with all of you. I saw my writing ability improve quite a bit, even though this ended up much longer than I first thought! I'll get the epilogue posted right after this. I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did.

    Skyhold turned into a hive of activity. Scouts were in and out of Leliana’s office all day. Krem would be off with the Chargers to take care of something, only to be thrown back into the field with Kelasi to take care of something else. They spent time together, but it was in short bursts, usually with them crammed into a small tent together, along with Varric or Cassandra.

 

    It left his cock and heart aching, to be so deprived of time with Krem. He understood, because Leliana’s agents weren’t coming back with much in the way of intelligence. Everything was… Odd. Corypheus was looking for something at a Well? No one knew exactly what, though Celine’s pet court enchanter had guesses. They were still trying to track down the last of Samson’s men, to see if there was anything to be done about making a battle with him easier.

 

    Cullen focused his forces there, though Josephine urged him to take care of more humanitarian concerns, to shelter the people. He obeyed, although he grumbled. People were being fed and clothed, citizens moved out of dangerous areas, and Kelasi closed rifts through it all. There were fewer demons in the countryside, while more and more scouts tracked the activity of Corypheus.

 

    The most interesting things he heard from his library had little to do with Corypheus. Mother Giselle was around, pestering Leliana and Cassandra about whether or not they wanted to be Divine. Kelasi would rebuff her. When the world was less chaotic, she said, this discussion could take place. It wasn’t the end of the discussions among the two of them. They went back and forth, trying to decide if they would be fit, if either of them would be better than the other.

 

    Dorian didn’t have a firm opinion one way or another. Either Cassandra or Leliana would make for a better Divine than Justinia, or the old, decrepit one before her. At least, that’s what he overheard. He didn’t know the most about these sorts of politics, but he also trusted Cassandra to be righteous, and Leliana to make the best decisions for the most people. Whether life tried to train her out of her mercy or not, Kelasi was there to put it back. Either way, someone would stand for the right things, and would advocate for the people who needed it the most.

 

    Not that he thought much of the Chantry, Tevinter, Fereldan, or otherwise. People could sometimes be decent, but give them a hint of power and that went out the window. Somehow the Inquisition was an exception to that. He wasn’t sure how, but he wanted to know. Was it because it was a military organization? Was it moral leadership? Kelasi’s innate goodness making it easy to stay on track? He sighed. If that was the case, it wouldn’t be something he could take back to Tevinter, and there were such rare instances of being able to trust someone that much it wouldn’t apply anyway.

 

    For now, he would just have to use time honored tactics to gather up political power. Not that they were pleasant, but maybe his father would have something… Going back to Tevinter wasn’t hanging over his head any more. It didn’t fill him with dread or create knots in his stomach, but something was keeping him here. It didn’t feel like the right time to return yet, with so much unfinished with the Inquisition. Besides, there was so much to learn about infrastructure and politics, it was just as valuable to be here as home. And he didn’t want to ask Krem to leave the Chargers, because of how much they took him in, and how much he got paid. That had to be a lot of money to take care of his family, and he couldn’t offer that much yet, not without his seat in the Magisterium, or a discussion with his father he wasn’t ready to have just yet.

 

**. . .**

 

Kelasi approached him with a grim look on her face one day, dressed in battle armor, bow already strung across her back. Krem was behind her, dressed and carrying the packs they’d been using to travel. “We need to leave, now,” she told him. “I know it’s short notice, but we have to get into position before Corypheus makes his move, so there’s horses outside and we’re ready to go.”

 

    “Alright,” Dorian told her, placing the book he was reading on the shelf and grabbing his pack from Krem. He knew that it would contain everything he needed for however long they would be gone. He and Krem had been packing quite a bit lately. He grabbed his staff from the wall, and headed out to join the team on their mounts. “Where are we going?” Dorian asked.

 

    “Deep into the Arbor wilds. Corypheus is sending his forces there, we think to find an Eluvian, so he can enter the Fade. At any rate, his forces are converging, and we’re trying to beat him there. It’ll be… tight.” Kelasi grimaced, the bags under her eyes very apparent. “I just got back from another raid on Samson’s quarries, I was hoping to get more rest than this.”

 

    “Me too,” Dorian told her, beginning the process of strapping his bags to his horse. There was a larger bag that he and Krem shared that would be attached to a pack horse that would follow them. Cassandra and Kelasi mounted up, their bags loaded before the boys could finish. Krem was done first, and came over to help Dorian finish and get mounted.

 

    Over the next few days, they pushed their horses as hard as they could. Here and there were Inquisition outposts where they could get fresh horses, and actually rest. They covered the ground quickly, nearly catching up with the troops from the breakneck pace. Dorian just hoped he was still going to be able to fight. He did much better than he would have in the past, but the idea of laying in bed for a day or so was appealing. Corypheus wouldn’t let them, though, no matter how rude that made him.

 

    The sounds of battle greeted them as they approached the camp. The scouts were wary, and he couldn’t blame them, with the sound of swords and clashes surrounding them. Kelasi received a map, along with instructions. Elves were also spotted, which surprised him and didn’t. People disappeared from the Arbor wilds all the time, and this might be the reason. But elves? How had they not heard of this from the Dalish, or the servants they were helping after Briala indirectly took the throne? Surely these elves would care for their own people.

 

    Morrigan pulled Kelasi aside, making snide comments about who people thought she was. Dorian grit his teeth. Kelasi knew exactly what she looked like, and meant to people. She wasn’t going to abuse it, nor did she think it made her a god. She just… Took what power she had and used it to better the lives of the people around her. Kelasi put her in her place, lightly, and Morrigan told them what she knew of the place.

 

    It was a temple to Mythal, hence the reports of elves. Power surrounded it, and he could feel the faint buzz of ancient power coming through the fade. It felt… Wild here. Completely different from the old places in Tevinter. The magic felt feral, nearly sizzling through him. He would need to take extra care not to attract things, or to use more than was wise. Kelasi paused by Josephine, and he and Krem stood a polite distance. He didn’t know what she was saying, but if he knew Kelasi, it would be admonishing Josephine to take care of herself.

 

    Wounded scouts were getting patched up near the tents, soldiers staggering in with wounded on their backs or on stretchers. It stank, though he was glad to see that there weren’t very many bodies in camp. The Inquisition had worked hard to deprive Corypheus of his armies, and it paid off. They were being routed, one way or another. The further they went, the more he could feel the wild power around him. It made him long for a city, although Morrigan teased him about it mercilessly. He wondered how she managed to be so unaffected, then remembered that she grew up in a place very like this.

 

    Briala joined them on their walk, along with a bodyguard, and they dove through the few Templar ranks that remained. Brightly colored birds swirled around them, frightened by the noise. They scavenged flesh from the bodies, beautiful things turned ugly in war. It made his stomach turn until he forced himself to look away. He just hoped they wouldn’t get infected with the red lyrium. That would be quite a mess for the Inquisition to handle.

 

    They approached a crumbling stone structure, covered in Templars. Kelasi motioned for them to hold, and lined up her shots. Templars crumbled with her perfect aim, so quietly that none of their companions were alerted. Cole joined her, and while they couldn’t take down the horrors or behemoths in one shot, they could handle the archers and the food soldiers easily enough. Krem would bowl the horrors over, Cassandra would keep them there, and he would use his magic to freeze them. It worked well as they splashed through the river, eliminating the last of the corrupted Grey Wardens as they went.

 

    There still weren’t signs of a temple. Structures, certainly, though they were crumbling and no longer connected to anything. Most of them were overgrown with huge trees, hidden and distorted with leaves. Mushrooms also grew in shady spaces, making it difficult to tell what belonged to them and what belonged to the forest. Sometimes there were statues, usually covered in vines, but still standing despite the forest’s best efforts.

 

    Little by little, they tore through the Templars on the path, eventually making it to a camp. Cassandra called out a warning about soldiers on the ramparts, and Kelasi just grinned. Two arrows, and there weren’t archers any more. She would be truly frightening if she wasn’t so good hearted. Elves jumped out at them when they were finished with the Templars. They didn’t look like any elves he’d ever seen, and Cassandra agreed with him. Morrigan suspected they were the reason few returned from the Arbor Wilds, and Kelasi agreed. What were they defending so viciously? The wild feeling didn’t get worse when he was near them, so perhaps that? Was he able to feel the power of the Eluvian from this far away?

 

    Kelasi raised the camp supplies, and they moved on. The dark tunnels of trees made his skin crawl, especially because sounds of battle echoed around inside them. A group of harried Inquisition scouts were fighting a group of Templars, and after killing them, Kelasi directed the scouts to the supply cache. She shook their hands, thanked them for their service, and told them to get help for their wounds. One of them looked like he was about to protest, and Cassandra raised his eyebrow. He went even paler than he was, and mumbled a “yes, ser,” before leading his squad to the former Templar camp.

 

    The deeper they went, the more Templars there were, and the smaller the groups of troops became. Kelasi went out of her way to find all of them, making sure that they had the help they needed to take down their foes. She didn’t throw herself in, still making sure that she would be alive to confront Corypheus, but he could tell how much it hurt her not to. Her people rallied when they saw her, knowing what she meant to them, and how hard she would fight. It was beautiful to watch, and he hoped he could do the same for people he led when he returned to Tevinter. Maybe not directly in combat, but he wanted to have people know that they were fighting for a just cause, and for something that they could support and believe in.

 

    Eventually, they hacked through far enough to see the gates. Red Templars were still there, but they looked haggard and worried. Between the elves, and the Inquisition forces, they looked beaten down. Forces down, they moved forward. The magic was almost strong enough to make the hairs on his arms stand on end. The gate to the temple was magnificent, still mostly intact, though a tree had replaced part of the roof. Two giant wolf statues guarded the gate, coated in moss. The further he walked, the more he felt the magic, and he hoped he would be able to stay functional. He also couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the elves. Tevinter had destroyed something this exquisite, because of greed. How could a place with such a rich history want to take that history from others?

 

    As they walked through, the sounds of fighting increased. Dead Templars littered the walkway, and they crept forward to watch an exchange. Elves stood defiantly, shouting curses. Corypheus stepped forward, demanding to see the Well of Sorrows. Morrigan just shrugged when Kelasi looked at her pointedly. Dorian watched in horror as Corypheus stepped forward, absorbing more and more energy from two gateway stones. Corypheus exploded, telling them that they were witnessing death at the hands of a new god, and Templars stormed the temple. Some of the ache from the magic eased, but it didn’t get entirely better. It was horrifying when the body of Corypheus arose out of the body of a Grey Warden, twitching and seizing. They dove across the bridge, trying to keep him and his archdemon out. They made it, but barely.

 

    When he was less terrified and able to think more clearly, the beauty of it struck him. It was huge, statues towering over them. The large arches revealed bits of the statues at a time. Even overgrown, it was beautiful. It took him a moment to realize that Morrigan was talking to them.

 

    “At last, Mythal’s sanctum. Let us proceed before Corypheus interferes,” she told them. Cassandra raised her eyebrows, and jumped in.

 

    “You said Corypheus wanted an eluvian, but he mentioned a “Well of Sorrows.” Which is right?” she asked. Always straightforward and to the point with her.

 

    “I… am uncertain of what he referred to,” Morrigan told them as she scratched her head.

    “Well, it wouldn’t be the Inquisition if everything went right,” Kelasi told them with a grin and good humor. “Could they be the same? Could “eluvian” translate into “Well of Sorrows?” Kelasi asked.

 

    “No. It seems an eluvian is not the prize Corypheus seeks,” Morrigan replied. Dorian grinned. He hadn’t known her for very long, but it was still satisfying to see her off balance. Kelasi crossed her arms across her chest, lowering her eyebrows slightly. For anyone who knew her well, it was more amusement than sternness, but Morrigan didn’t know her well.

 

    “Yes, I was wrong! Does that please you?” Morrigan asked as she threw her hands up. Dorian did his best not to snicker, although it wasn’t a very good best, seeing as Krem elbowed him. “Whatever the Well of Sorrows might be, Corypheus seeks it, and thus you must keep it from his grasp.” Kelasi turned and walked down the bridge to the temple.

 

    “Let’s find it before Corypheus can, then. Though I’m more worried about how he came back to life. We saw him die. Not just die, he exploded from the force of the magic,” Kelasi said.

 

    “And his life force passes on to any blighted creature, darkspawn or Grey Warden,” Morrigan told her in return. A sinking dread filled the pit of his stomach.

 

    “Then Corypheus can’t really die,” Dorian said. It made his stomach turn over, on top of the pressure from the magic of this place.

 

    “We’ll find a way to stop him once we’re done here,” Kelasi told him, resting a hand on his arm.

 

    “Tis strange. Archdemons possess the same ability, and still the Grey Wardens are able to slay them. Yet Corypheus they locked away. Perhaps they knew he could do this… But not how.” Morrigan trailed off, content to leave them with that mysterious bit of information. He shuddered, and got in line behind Kelasi as they continued forward.

 

    There was a large statue guarding a bunch of tiled squares. They were laid out in a pattern, and glowed when stepped on. Leaved littered the path, and didn’t seem to trigger the same response. That was fascinating. How would tiled be able to tell the difference?

 

    “It appears the temple’s magics are still strong,” Morrigan told Kelasi. Kelasi moved forward and examined the transcription.

 

    “Is this elven? Does it say anything about this “Well of Sorrows”? Kelasi asked.

 

    “Ah! There’s a word… Abelas, the place of Sorrows. There is something about knowledge. Respectful or pure. Shiven, shivennen… ‘Tis all I can translate. That it mentions the Well is a good omen,” Morrigan finished. Translation was a finicky business, he knew well. Translating things from Ancient Tevene was always a tricky prospect, and it was originally the same language.

 

    “Well, it’s something. I doubt will get much further. Might have been useful to bring Solas for once,” Kelasi mumbled so quietly it was almost inaudible. He tried not to snicker, and managed to avoid an elbow for his troubles.

 

    “Supplicants to Mythal would have first paid obeisance here. Following their path may aid entry,” Morrigan continued. She shrugged, and moved off of the platform.

 

    “Perform a ritual to appease elven gods? Long-dead or no, I don’t like it,” Cassandra replied. She couldn’t be feeling the magic in the same way he was, but he wondered if her Seeker senses could pick up on some of it. It would make anyone uneasy, as he could personally attest.

 

    “If need be. Unless you wish to turn back?” Morrigan asked with derision. He wanted to shake her, because as much as Cassandra annoyed him sometimes, she was a woman worthy of respect. He also didn’t blame her for her apprehension. While he was more likely to go ahead out of curiosity, magic was always something worth respecting. Kelasi shrugged and walked the path, careful to only step once on each tile. They glowed blue, and something shifted inside the temple as a door opened.

 

    Corpses of the temple’s guardians lay in the path, already starting to attract flies. Morrigan commented on them, while Krem gently closed their eyes and set them aside. It was sad, to spend their entire lives guarding something this precious and magical, only to have it ripped away from them by a Tevene. He didn’t think he would ever get used to such losses, even knowing that the reason this temple looked as bad as it did was because of the Imperium.  

 

    They passed through the flowing door, to see Templars blocking off places for explosives. A group of them dropped through the hole in the floor, another moved to surround them. It didn’t take long to dispatch them, mostly because there were no horrors or behemoth’s. Kelasi approached the hole in the ground, ready to jump through.

 

    “Hold a moment!” Morrigan warned. “While they go through there, our way lies beyond that door. We should walk the petitioner’s path as before.”

 

    “It might take longer, and leave our soldiers more vulnerable,” Krem added.

 

    “I agree. All of this fussing over ancient rituals while our soldiers fight and die for us. I do not like it,” Cassandra said.

 

    “Just a thought here, rushing through this place might not be the best idea.” Dorian still felt spooked from the magic he could feel pressing down. Explosives might break walls, but they couldn’t make magic cooperate, and while it might save time to go this way, they had no idea the damage they were going to do. Krem looked over at him.

 

    “Are you alright? You’ve looked on edge ever since we’ve gotten here, what’s going on?” Krem asked.

 

    “I can feel the magic here… It’s ancient, almost alive. I don’t know what would happen if we disregarded the paths, but I don’t want to think about it.” Dorian shivered while Cassandra snorted. She wouldn’t agree with him, he knew, but it was something.

 

    “Alright. I’d rather not mess with something like that, if it’s all the same to the rest of you. I think the petitioner’s path is the right way to go,” Krem replied.

 

    “I’m inclined to believe you.” Kelasi paused to glare at Morrigan. “Even if I don’t entirely trust your motives.”

 

    “Long ago, legends roamed the earth, only to be erased by man. Corypheus would squander the ancient power of the well. I would have it restored,” Morrigan replied. She sounded sincere enough, but Dorian had a difficult time believing her.

 

    “I wasn’t expecting your answer to be… So romantic,” Kelasi replied.

 

    “Your surprise matches mine, believe me. Men blunder through the world, destroying things they don’t understand. Magic, dragons, elves, all destroyed by them for no other reason than that they are different. I seek to preserve what I can, where I can.” Morrigan paused. “I read more of the inscription earlier than I admitted. It said a great boon is given to those who use the Well of Sorrows… but at a terrible price.”

 

    “Did you not trust me enough to tell me this earlier?” Kelasi asked.

 

    “Believe me, if I wanted to mislead you I would’ve feigned ignorance entirely. I have some loyalty to your cause, but if it comes down to it, I will be willing to pay the price,” Morrigan answered.

 

    “Alright.” Kelasi’s expression was difficult to read, although he knew she would be skeptical of such a prospect. “We’ll see how this goes when we get there.” Kelasi looked over to Cassandra. “I am sorry, Cassandra. You know how highly I value our soldiers, but we are dealing in magics that haven’t been seen for centuries, and I do not know how that would impact the building, let alone Corypheus’ plan.” Cassandra nodded, still unhappy but going along with her commanding officer. Dorian held a great deal of respect for her, because none of her behavior changed. She would follow orders, even if she disagreed.

 

    The rest of the rites looked very similar to the first one, walking along paths until all of the tiles were lit up. Kelasi would study them, and then very quickly go through, making sure not to restep. Dorian was impressed at how little time it took her, because he wouldn’t have been able to solve them that quickly. After the last one they raced to the doors, hoping they’d opened. The door was glowing, so Kelasi took a moment to study some of the mosaics. Morrigan told her more about them, and she took notes in her journal before moving on to the door.

 

    “Tis not what I expected,” Morrigan said. “What was this chamber used for?” They moved through the room, until they heard elves surround them.

 

    “Venavis. You… are unlike the other invaders. You stumble down our paths. You bear the mark of magic which is... familiar. How has this come to pass? What is your connection to those who first disturbed our slumber?” the leading elf asked. Kelasi considered before answering.

 

    “They are my enemies, as well as yours,” she told him.

 

    “I am called Abelas. We are sentinels, tasked with standing against those who trespass on sacred ground. We wake only to fight, preserve this place. Our numbers diminish with each invasion. I know what you seek. Like all who have come before, you wish to drink from the vir’abelasan.” He was pacing restlessly back and forth, while Dorian could hear the strung bows of the elves behind them.

 

    “The place of the way of sorrows. He speaks of the well!” Morrigan exclaimed, not nearly as quietly as she thought she did. Kelasi gave her a look that said hold your tongue, before continuing to listen to Abelas.

 

    “It is not for you. It is not for any of you.” Abelas finished.

 

    “You’re elves from ancient times? Before the Imperium destroyed Arlathan?” Kelasi asked.

 

    “The shemlen did not destroy Arlathan. We elvhen warred upon ourselves. By the time the doors to this sanctuary closed, our time was over,” Abelas replied.

 

    “Wait… That’s not right. What are you saying?” Dorian asked. He couldn’t believe it. The Imperium hadn’t actually destroyed the elves? Or Arlathan? How could that be possible? Everything the elves were had been taken from them by the Imperium, then the exalted marches.

 

    “You would not know truth. Shemlen history is as short as the pool of your years.” Abelas was almost spitting when he spoke.

 

    “What did the Imperium do, then? Are you saying there wasn’t a war?” Dorian asked. Tevinter had ancient records, older than almost any other place in Thedas, but somehow they were so much younger than the elves. How old must this place be, to be older than the Imperium itself?

 

    “The “war” of carrion feasting upon a corpse, yes. We awaken only when called, and each time find the world more foreign than before. It is meaningless. We endure. The vir’abelasan must be preserved,” Abelas finished, clearly tiring of the subject.

 

    “What is this vir’abelasan exactly?” Kelasi asked.

 

    “It is a path, one walked only by those who toiled in Mythal’s favor,” Abelas replied. Morrigan was quick to jump in, and Dorian couldn’t believe her arrogance. There was much to be learned here, but they would get nowhere by refusing to listen to these elves.

 

    “He speaks of priests, perhaps?” Morrigan suggested.

 

    “More than that you need not know,” Abelas told her.

 

    “We did not come here to fight you, nor to steal from your temple,” Kelasi told him.

 

     “I believe you. Trespassers you are, but you have followed rites of petition. You have shown respect to Mythal. If these others are enemies of yours, we will aid you in destroying them. When this is done, you shall be permitted to depart, and never return,” Abelas finished.

 

    “I’ll admit, the idea of fighting the last of their kind… Does not thrill me,” Dorian told Kelasi. If Tevinter had truly not destroyed the elves, he would not play the brute here. Elven culture was here, information that the Dalish could use to become closer to their heritage. These people remembered, and were history, far too priceless to destroy.

 

    “Consider carefully. You must stop Corypheus, yes, but you may also need the Well for your own,” Morrigan told Kelasi. Dorian rolled his eyes. Surely Morrigan meant for her own.

 

    “I accept your offer,” Kelasi told Abelas.  

 

    “You will be guided to those you seek. As for the vir’abelasan… It shall not be despoiled, even if I must destroy it myself,” he told them as he turned to run towards the back of the temple.

 

    “No!” Morrigan cried out, turning into a raven to pursue Abelas. A set of doors opened to the side, to reveal an elf with a staff and book. Dorian was more focused on what Abelas had said.

 

    “He said the elves destroyed themselves, before my countrymen came along. Could that be true? I can hardly believe it,” Dorian asked. Such precious information, and at least one less blight for the history of his homeland. Kelasi squeezed his arm, and moved to pursue their guide. Who only spoke elvish. Considering Morrigan chased off after Abelas, they were left to guess at the meaning.

 

    Their guide led them through a maze of tunnels, dropping down walls that were secret doors. They could hear combat, but they were never led directly to it. Dorian couldn’t tell if he was relieved they didn’t have to fight, or sad that more of these elves would die in this invasion. It was beautiful to see the temple perfectly preserved, although Cassandra decided to speak against the elven gods. The three of them shared a look, though none of them said anything. No use starting a fight over this right now.

 

    Kelasi paused to examine the mosaic and take quick notes, each time being admonished by their guide to move faster. Kelasi would smile, and then jog to catch up. They made good time, no doubt saving many of their soldiers because of this alliance. Nice to know that not messing with the strange magic meant more time saved in the long run. He didn’t know if Cassandra would believe that or not, but it was something he knew and could be satisfied by.

 

    The deeper they went the fewer red templars there were, although they could still see a few here and there. More of the elves were dying too, turning the water in the paths the walked through red. It was saving them and their soldiers time, but at what cost to the elves? Though them destroying elves wouldn’t help matters any either. He hated to lose history, hated to lose people, and this was a heartbreaking combination of both. Their guide stopped at a door, then stood back. So this is where they were left.

 

    Red Templars had made it this far, though only four of them were on the other side of the door. It didn’t take long to dispatch them, and continue on their path. The walls held astonishing paintings, though what they depicted he couldn’t be sure. It looked like elves hunting someone, or a skeleton, stark white standing out from the dark brown stones. There were more statues, probably depictions of Mythal. One more door, and they were at the well, and could hear the sounds of water rushing and people fighting below. How had such magic lasted?

 

    Dead red templars lined the stairs down to the well. They could hear Samson shouting, urging his forces on. Kelasi’s veilfire torch cast an eerie glow on the walls as they descended, sound echoing strangely. Dorian willed his feet to stay quiet, even as he knew they would be fighting one way or another. They came upon a scene of carnage as Samson slaughtered the sentinels. Samson bantered with them for a few minutes, Kelasi revealing that she had a rune to sunder his armor. He praised Corypheus and ranted against the chantry. It was painful, knowing what was coming. Samson turned into a raving addict before their eyes, and the fight was on.

 

    The fight didn’t last long, his men dispatched quickly with arrows. Cassandra backed him up against a wall, with Abelas flanking. Krem would sometimes dart in to grab his attention, long enough for Cassandra to blow her horn. Kelasi’s arrows found their mark, though his magic was less effective with all of the lyrium still running through his veins. Abelas bolted as soon as Samson went down, steps forming under his feet as he ran up the gap between them and the well. Morrigan flew ahead of him, blocking him from reaching the well. She turned into a human again, hate stamped on her face.

 

    “You heard his parting words, Inquisitor. The elf seeks to destroy the Well of Sorrows!” Morrigan was nearly shouting.

 

    “So the sanctum is despoiled at last,” Abelas told her. Dorian didn’t know how he felt about any of this. This belonged to the elves, but wasn’t it better for it to be used than for it to be destroyed?

 

    “You would have destroyed the well yourself, given the chance,” Morrigan told him as she crossed her arms over her chest.

 

    “To keep it from your grasping fingers! Better it be lost than bestowed upon the undeserving!” Abelas’ eyes were narrowed, eyebrows drawn across his face. It made him remember Alexius and Felix in the time that didn’t happen. So much destroyed, for so little reason.

 

    “Fool! You’d let your people’s legacy rot in the shadows!” Morrigan told him. Dorian… agreed. Which he didn’t like very much. Morrigan made him uneasy.

 

    “Enough,” Kelasi told her.

 

    “If this well offers power against Corypheus can you really afford…” Morrigan tried to interject.

 

    “I said enough!” Kelasi snapped, face turning into a snarl. Abelas shook his head.

 

    “Do you even know what you ask? As each servant of Mythal reached the end of their years, they would pass their knowledge on… Through this. All that we were. All that we knew. It would be lost forever,” Abelas finished. Kelasi’s face softened.

 

    “It cannot be easy, to watch all of this slip away.. But wouldn’t it be better to have someone use it, than to have it destroyed and lost?” Kelasi asked. That was a point.

 

    “You cannot imagine. Each time we awaken, it slips further from our grasp. You have shown respect for mythal, and there is a righteousness in you I cannot deny. Is that your desire? To partake of the vir’abelasan as best you can, to fight your enemy?” Abelas asked.

 

    “Not without your permission,” Kelasi replied.

 

    “One does not obtain permission. One obtains the right. The vir’abelasan may be too much for a mortal to comprehend. Brave it if you must, but know you this: you shall be bound forever to the will of Mythal,” Abelas finished. He stared sadly at the well, seeming more his age with time.

 

    “Bound? To a goddess who no longer exists, if she ever did?” Morrigan’s scorn was palpable. She hadn’t been there when Cassandra was talking about elves putting this much effort into nonsense, but it felt similar. Why was it so difficult for people to respect the beliefs of another?

 

    “Bound as we are bound. The choice is yours,” Abelas told her. That was interesting. They were bound to the temple, to serve until their bodies could no longer draw breath. What would that mean for someone who drank from the well? Would they be bound to this place? Or something else?

 

    “I don’t know very much about elven culture, or how and when they prayed to their gods. But you’re saying that Mythal exists? Here and now?” Kelasi asked. She was trying to be as respectful as she could, so it took her a few tries to get the words in the right order, and express what she intended.

 

    “Anything is possible,” Abelas replied.

 

    “Elven legend states that Mythal was tricked by Fen’harel, and banished to the beyond,” Morrigan added.

 

    “Elven legend is wrong. The Dread Wolf had nothing to do with her murder,” Abelas corrected. Morrigan tilted her head.

 

    “Murder? I said nothing of-” Morrigan trailed off, not sure how to continue or what Abelas was talking about. Satisfying, in its own way.

 

    “She was slain, if a god truly can be. Betrayed by those who destroyed this temple. Yet the vir’abelasan remains. As do we. That is something,” Abelas finished.

 

    “Will you leave the temple?” Kelasi asked.

 

    “Our duty ends. Why remain?” Abelas asked in return.

 

    “The imperium went to great lengths to expunge elven history. You might be the last to know the truth,” Dorian told him. All of that knowledge would be such a boon to the Dalish, always trying to reclaim what was lost.

 

    “Would the “elves” of your lands listen to the truth?” Abelas asked.

 

    “They might. Would it hurt to try?” Dorian couldn’t see the harm in it, but Abelas’ answer surprised him.

 

    “It very well may, Shemlen, yes. It may be that only uthenera awaits us. The blissful sleep of eternity, never to awaken. If fate is kind,” Abelas finished sadly. Dorian didn’t think he could understand. If he knew about history, he would want to write it down and pass it on. Though there was always the risk that he wouldn’t be believed. And that would hurt more than anything.

 

    “Thank you for the gift abelas,” Kelasi told him as he turned away from them.

 

    “Do not thank me yet, shemlen,” Abelas replied. That was ominous.

    “You’ll note the intact eluvian. I was correct on that count, at least,” Morrigan told them. Petty to the last.

 

    “Is it still a threat? Can Corypheus still travel into the fade?” Kelasi asked Morrigan. She hesitated a moment before responding.

 

    “You recall when I took you through my eluvian, I said each one required a key? The Well is the key. Take its power, and Mythal’s last eluvian will be no more use to Corypheus than glass. I did not expect the well to feel so… Hungry,” she finished. Even more ominous. Whatever this was… It didn’t seem like a good thing.

 

    “That’s… concerning,” Kelasi replied.

 

    “Knowledge begets a hunger for more,” Morrigan replied. “I am willing to pay the price the well demands. I am also the best suited to use its knowledge in your service.” Morrigan sounded almost as if she was begging.

 

    “I do not like this,” Cassandra interjected. “She is too eager.”

 

    “I do not hide it. To restore lost knowledge, I would risk much,” Morrigan replied.

 

    “And what would you do with it? You could be worse than Corypheus,” Cassandra shot back.

 

    “So paralyze yourself for fear of what might be? I can give nothing but my word,” Morrigan replied. She was getting angry, her own hunger for knowledge building. Dorian felt uneasy. “ Of those present, I alone have the training to make use of this. Let me drink, Inquisitor.” Now she sounded needy, a child begging for something they had been denied.

 

    “What training makes you so qualified?” Kelasi asked.

 

    “I have studied the oldest lore. I have delved into mysteries of which you could only dream. Can you honestly tell me that there is anyone better suited?” Morrigan replied.

 

    “What about you Dorian?” Kelasi asked him.

 

    “A human from Tevinter scoops up the last bits of elven knowledge? I know why you ask. I know it’s important, but… I can’t be that man.” Tevinter had done enough to the elves, even if they were only scavengers picking away at a corpse. Tevinter still erased knowledge, obliterated the history of the elves. For him to drink it would be repeating that process all over again. Not to mention that he was already duty bound to serve Tevinter, and while they might not know what became of Mythal, he didn’t want something getting in the way of that.

 

    “Well, then it must be me,” Kelasi told Morrigan.

 

    “You lead the Inquisition. This is not a risk you can take,” Morrigan told her. Dorian could have told her that was futile. Kelasi knew better than anyone that she led the Inquisition. She knew that the fate of so many people was in her hands. She fought, she sacrificed, she gave everything she had because she could do nothing else. “I have the best chance of making use of the well… For everyone. Let me drink.”

 

    Dorian trusted Kelasi with the well. He knew that she would do her best to return the knowledge to the elves, as soon as her duties allowed. It would be another duty for her to pick up, another burden to bear, but she would do it. She didn’t know if Morrigan would do good things or bad things, but she would know that she could. Dorian hoped she understood that, and chose to drink from the well. Even if he could not bear the thought of losing her to anyone, and wished Morrigan could take it. Kelasi contemplated for a moment, and stared at the well.

 

    “Looking at it, listening to it… That's not just knowledge from ancient elven priests. It’s their will,” Kelasi told Morrigan. She seemed to be able to hear something from the well none of the rest of them could. Perhaps the mark on her hand?

 

    “How would you know such a thing?” Morrigan asked. Kelasi’s face lit up in recognition.

 

    “That’s what Abelas was telling us. The collective will of the priests puts anyone who drinks under a compulsion. A gaes. Can’t you feel it?” Kelasi asked Morrigan.

 

    “That… would match the legends, but it does not tell us what the gaes entails. I would still use the well, but you are right we must be cautious,” Morrigan replied. She seemed to know she was beaten slightly. “But enough deliberation. Give me your decision.”

 

    “If anyone is to use the well, it will be me,” Kelasi told her.

 

    “So you will take what little knowledge you can understand, and let the rest go to waste?” Morrigan yelled. She was nearly crying in frustration, while Kelasi’s face was a stone mask.

 

    “Who’s to say it will go to waste?” Kelasi told her.

 

    “I do.” Morrigan’s face was angry, before it fell and she stood aside to let Kelasi pass. “Perhaps it is better this way. Do as you will with the well of sorrows, Inquisitor. But be careful.”

 

     Kelasi stepped slowly into the water, her feet looking strange against the steps. Blue lights shone about the water, gathering around her, and making small splashes. Dorian and Morrigan watched with concern as she drank, and a blue light dissipated the the water in the well. They were all knocked back. They could hear Kelasi talking, but nothing more, she seemed lost to whatever was in the well. It took a few minutes for her to come back to them, but eventually she stood up, glowing faintly blue.

 

    “Not dead! Well, that’s a relief. So… Good? Bad? I’m dying to know,” Dorian asked. Though he was interrupted by Corypheus approaching them. He screamed in rage, and levitated upward, flying towards them. Kelasi ran for the eluvian, activating it and making sure all of her people made it through the well. It closed behind them. They tumbled through Morrigan’s eluvian into Skyhold.

 

    They were safe.

 

**. . .**

 

    Dorian thought Kelasi’s plan was pure madness. They were going to a shrine, dedicated to Mythal, in the middle of the forest. Even though they had no idea if it was in one piece or several, or what exactly, they were going to find there. Something to defeat an archdemon, which could be anything from an isolated enclave of Grey Wardens to a really big trebuchet. Not that those were likely to have survived several of Thedas’ ages.

 

    The shrine made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, the same way the Well did. Magic lived here, along with history so ancient it would make Tevinter look young. Stone arches littered the path, trees growing around them. The trees here were old, grown over the arches as casually as he might step over a stair. Ferns covered everything from the arches to the trees, not picky about what they lived on. As they walked forward, he tread lightly on the soil, not wanting to disturb whatever was here. The sound of rushing water surrounded them, even though he couldn’t see any, and a mist rose up around them the further they went. Bird song came closer, and he could see something rather large roaring.

 

    The shrine ahead of them wasn’t precisely in one piece. As he stepped through the last arch, he realized that the arches used to be walls, worn down by trees and time. The small border was all that was left of what had probably been a magnificent building. A small group of statues was ahead of them, no doubt the altar of the shrine. He couldn’t tell what the statues were intended to be, although one looked like a woman, and the other a bit like a dragon. The woman was missing her head, a large tree having grown through the whole thing.

 

    Kelasi kept moving forward with a courage he didn’t feel. Krem squeezed his shoulder, moving ahead of him. Cassandra took a similar position for Kelasi, her shield raised. As they drew closer, he noticed that there were two wolf statues in front of the shrine. Didn’t Morrigan say something about that bordering on sacrilege? The statue of the woman had wings, and the more he looked around, the more dragon statues he spotted. He didn’t like where this was going. The mist was high enough to reach above their heads, though it didn’t encroach on the shrine. Kelasi held her hand out to touch the shrine.

 

    She read the inscription, something about servants being aided regardless of mercy. She called out to Flemeth, and the biggest dragon he’d ever seen flew out over the wall of the shrine. They’d bumped into more than one in their adventures saving Thedas, but this one was massive, a color that allowed it to blend into the foliage around it. Dorian took a deep breath, worried as Krem charged behind the dragon to taunt it.

 

    Cassandra angled her shield between her and the dragon. It deflected the dragon’s breath well, allowing her to taunt the dragon from the front. Between her and Krem, they kept it pinned and controlled. The dragon swung her tail and Krem cried out. There was a gash in his armor from the tail spines. Dorian resisted running over, barely. He forced himself to focus on icing the dragon’s joints as best he could. Kelasi fired her arrows into the ice, hoping it would let her arrows creep past the scales.

 

    His heart stopped when the dragon threw open its wings. He was pulled forward despite his fight. Krem had disappeared under the tail when he looked up, and he couldn't breathe. He propped up the tail with his staff and slid under, grabbing Krem and pulling him out. He wasn’t focused on himself and didn’t pay attention to the scales tearing chunks out of his arms. Blood trickled down his arm, making it difficult grab his staff back. Krem stood up and shook it off as Cassandra pulled the dragon forward. He looked rough but able to get back into battle so Dorian would take it. Dorian looked back at Cassandra and threw a barrier on her. Krem was safe now, but she was surrounded by flames. He could breathe again when the flames dissipated and she was still standing.

 

    The battle dragged on as his anxiety climbed. The dragon bounced between Krem and Cassandra while he and Kelasi harangued it. He was exhausted and shaking when it danced away from them. It didn’t try to get back into the fray and it tucked in its wings and claws. Kelasi crept forward, cautiously waiting for it to kill her. She stuck out her hand, cringing. The dragon leaned forward, placing its snout in her hand. Blue light flared between them, eventually taking over the dragon’s eyes. It blinked, nodded, and then flew away, leaving them with gaping mouths.

 

    “If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t believe it,” Dorian told her.

 

    “I know. The dragon will come when I call, once. It should hopefully take care of Corypheus’ pet for us, with any luck.” She grinned at him. “We won’t have much to do, it will be boring.”

 

    “Fighting Corypheus will never be boring,” Cassandra chipped in. Something that might resemble a small smile flitted across her face. “Unfortunately. We should get back to Skyhold before they miss us,” she told Kelasi, and they headed home, a dragon added to the list of resources the Inquisition had at its beck and call. Kelasi never ceased to amaze him.

 

**. . .**

 

    The night before they were due to face Corypheus, he very nearly didn’t sleep. Krem however, fell asleep easily, this battle no doubt less stressful than some of the days he’d lived through. His arms stayed wrapped around Dorian, and that was all that allowed him to fall asleep at last. Krem shook him awake, gently helping him into his armor. Their bags were already packed, and a small tray held breakfast for the two of them. Krem blushed when Dorian gave him a knowing look.

 

     “I know you have a hard time falling asleep before big fights. I got everything ready for you so you could sleep as long as you could.” Krem was somewhat quiet, and obviously embarrassed. Dorian didn’t understand why. He did a good thing.

 

    “That’s alright, I really appreciate it. It’s nice to wake up to everything together for us. I just hope you got plenty of rest yourself?” He stepped forward to kiss Krem, and Krem nodded, his blush persisting. They headed out to their horses, ready for the ride to where the Breach was  opening again. It was cold, almost unnaturally so. Rubble was everywhere, and green light shone on everything. Demons would drop out of the Breach every so often, and he shivered as he remembered the world Alexius created. Up close, it looked similar.

 

    The breach seemed to take up the whole sky. Chunks of plants and rocks were getting pulled into the breach, tearing at the ground. It tugged at them too, and he found himself having to brace to resist it. The red lyrium gleamed, glowing every time the green energy reached it.

 

    As they came around the corner, they spotted Inquisition scouts. They were no doubt left to guard the breach in case something happened. Corypheus set demons upon them, and scattered them into the air, leaving most of them dead. Cassandra saved one scout, throwing her shield up in front of him and decapitating the demon. Corypheus raised his hands, and the ground lifted them into the air. It reminded him of the Fade, when Kelasi tore them a rift so they could survive the fall from the bridge at Adamant.

 

    “You have been most successful in foiling my plans, but let us not forget what you are. A thief, in the wrong place at the wrong time. An interloper, a gnat. We shall prove once and for all, which of us is worthy of godhood.” The green light shone on the red lyrium that formed Corypheus’ face. It made him look eerie, and emphasized all of the pieces of him that were more darkspawn than human.  

 

    “I came here to stop you Corypheus, nothing more!” Kelasi replied. Corypheus stared her down, crooking a finger to summon his archdemon. Only for it to be knocked of its feet by Kelasi’s dragon. It raked gouges into its hide before leaping off into the air. The archdemon shook itself, then flew off after it. Corypheus stayed above them, as he used the orb to further the chaos he already started.

 

   Corypheus didn’t bother to dodge most of what they threw at him. None of it seemed to have much of an effect. It was disheartening as he was spending most of his energy dodging rocks. It took so much effort to focus enough to throw a single spell, and none of them seemed to bother Corypheus. Finally, he flinched from one of Kelasi’s arrows. There was a moment of peace as his attention faltered. Dorian drew into the focus he gained from it and cast his haste spell. He poured his love for Krem and Kelasi into it, willing all of them to fight harder in this moment when they could. Time slowed down, giving them a chance to advance on Corypheus. The spell wore off with a punch, and everything went back to chaos.

 

   The dragon and archdemon flew above their heads. He could hear their roars, but couldn’t look away long enough to notice anything more. Corypheus kept moving higher. Each time he did, the old location would spit rocks. They had to force their way up stairs, still trying to damage Corypheus at all when he was so often out of sight.

 

     They got a momentary breather half the way up to the breach when they found a cache of supplies. Inquisition scouts were a marvel. The cache stayed here through quite a bit of fuss, all things considered. They crept up the stairs, advancing on Corypheus. Kelasi’s dragon gave a cry of triumph, and they all looked up. The archdemon and dragon locked claws, spiraling into the ground. They landed with a crash, the archdemon leaping on the dragon. They wrestled, the dragon roaring in defiance, before the archdemon ripped off its head.

 

    He panicked, yelling about their lack of dragon. Kelasi yelling back calmed him enough to focus on the task at hand. Just like fighting the avatar of Mythal, Krem went to the tail to harry and taunt it, Cassandra took the head. She blasted her horn as often as she could, calling the party to fight harder and take the beast down. Kelasi’s arrows guided his magic this time. He was already exhausted. Dodging Corypheus took a lot out of him, which was only compounded by the archdemon trying to eat them.

 

    Kelasi eventually unleashed all of the rift energy her mark would allow her to control, centering above the beast. It distorted, chunks of the beast flying into the rift. That pinned it down long enough for Kelasi to pull a knife out of her boot and slit its throat. Corypheus was reeling in shock, and they looked on, covered in blood and sweat. Somehow they had to finish this. They had to dig deep and take care of Corypheus because no one could or would. Dorian wiped off his head, pulling a potion off of his belt to drink it. That moment was all he got.

 

    Corypheus drew more power from the orb. He sparked, the red lyrium in his face pulling towards the orb. All of the power pushed him to the top, several layers of stone above them. Kelasi took a moment to pause at another cache of healing potions. They all drank and refilled their stock. It helped, a little. He helped Krem bandage the ankle he wrenched on the uneven terrain while Kelasi bandaged Cassandra’s arm. All of them stood there, taking a moment to breathe instead of pant. They were jolted into action when they heard rubble crack above them.

 

    Krem tore in first, nearly getting blasted aside by a line of red power coming from Corypheus. Now, in addition to the terrain, they had to avoid the jolts of red energy. One nearly took of Kelasi’s foot, another Krem’s arm. He got stung with one and it turned his entire arm numb. Magic became more difficult to call. The red lyrium gave him power but also made the demons on the other side seem more appealing. It was all he could do to keep firing his staff. Kelasi made up for it, firing arrows as quickly as she could. All of them landed, Corypheus more focused on power than whatever they were doing.

 

    Corypheus drew more and more power as the battle went on. The red lyrium crystals on his face shrunk, and an entire chunk of red lyrium from behind them was absorbed by the orb. It wasn’t enough for him. He called to the ancient gods, begging them to give him more as though he wasn’t incinerating himself.

 

    Kelasi tired of it, and used her mark to pull his orb away. She concentrated, and all of the power dissipated. The breach closed and the orb died. The ground shook with increasing tremors, the power holding it up drained. Kelasi didn’t notice as the three of them started running down the stairs. Kelasi was busy, opening a rift in the fade. She pushed Corypheus into it, piece by piece. The three of them tore down the rocks, fast enough that Dorian tripped and rolled. His panic didn’t calm down until he was up and running again, trying to beat the rocks to the ground.

 

    He, Krem, and Cassandra made it, and it was a frantic moment before they noticed Kelasi coming towards them. Solas was there on the ground, mourning the remnants of the orb. He leaned over, sides heaving with effort. Sweat stung his eyes, but he could see all of Kelasi’s companions below them. Once they knew Kelasi was safe, they headed back to Skyhold.

 

     Cheering crowds greeted them, and row upon row of Inquisition troops saluted Kelasi. She stood before the advisors, and they bowed to her, so pleased to see them. Josephine embraced Kelasi, kissing her before they all went to face the crowd. Everyone had come for miles to see Kelasi, the person who saved them from certain doom. Leliana pulled her aside, and Dorian couldn’t help but wonder what it was about. But Krem pulled him into his own embrace, with fierce kisses, and he left to go eat the food that was provided. Krem stayed near him, always making sure that his glass and plate were as full as he wanted them to be.

 

    People came to talk to him, and congratulate him and Krem. Even people who spat upon the Magister from Tevinter. They wanted to get to know him, thank him for the aid that he provided Kelasi. It was a strange experience, to be revered in a land that had hated him for so long. Most of the guests smiled at Krem holding his hand, everyone else figuring it had been going on for a long time. They blessed his relationship with their casual acceptance. It was warm in the hall, the number of people and fires keeping the chill out of the spring night.

 

    This is what contentment felt like. People who loved him, warmth, food in his belly, and the realization that he could do more, but didn’t have to do it right now. He could stay with the Inquisition for a while, help it, knowing that he could go back to Tevinter and take up his duties whenever he needed. Krem looked handsome out of his armor, dressed in casual clothes for the banquet. It would’ve been uncomfortable to sit in leather armor for so long, and Dorian enjoyed the tight fit of the shirt against Krem’s muscles. Eventually, Kelasi managed to detach herself from the crowd long enough to come see him, and he couldn’t resist teasing her.

 

    “I was passing through the hall this morning, and a serving girl saw me and squealed. Actually squealed. Dropped her laundry and everything. Such a mess. She was completely breathless. ‘You were at the battle with the evil one, weren’t you?’ She didn’t even give me a chance to answer. She hugged me. _Hugged_ me. This is your influence.” He was grinning, and Kelasi smiled back, and he was glad someone understood his sense of humor.

 

    “You earned it,” Kelasi told him as she reached out to squeeze his hand. Krem was smiling, enjoying Dorian’s basking.

 

    “Must be why this feels so unfamiliar. Mind you, I can’t say I hate the notion of being ‘the good Tevinter.’ ‘I suppose you can’t _all_ be evil bastards.’ The blacksmith said that, and he spat when we first met. I hope my father hears. He will shit his small clothes from shock, I swear.” Dorian hadn’t thought much about it, but his father would be proud of what he had done here.

 

    He was making inroads, and being a diplomat to his house while he was here. That made his decision to easier, because the Inquisition was set to become quite a political powerhouse, and if House Pavus had diplomatic connections, that would give them an advantage. Kelasi agreed with him about much of Tevinter, and would probably loan him troops and spies to help him gather power and make changes. Something to look forward to.

 

    “I’m glad you stayed to help. You’re an example of how good Tevinter could be,” she told him. That warmed him, even as he frowned.

 

    “For southerners, maybe. Back home they’ll be rolling their eyes behind their fans. Meanwhile they’ll conveniently forget the bastards who wanted Corypheus ruling us all.” He paused, trying to remember if he told Kelasi when he wanted to head back. “Meanwhile, I’ve decided to stay with the Inquisition. For now.”

 

    “You will?” Kelasi asked, not hiding the eagerness in her voice.

 

     “Tevinter lacks the presence of my best and only friend. It’ll keep,” Dorian told her. “Excluding Krem, of course, though he’s a little different.” Krem smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Now go enjoy the rest of your party,” he told her. Josephine was making eyes at her, in between checking things off on her board and fussing. He didn’t get to see what happened with that, because Josephine was still fussing when he and Krem headed to their room.

 

   Krem tugged him down the hall eagerly, no doubt focused on time together that wouldn’t be interrupted by Inquisition business. Neither of them had had much wine, because Krem rarely did anything to excess, and Dorian wanted to remember this. Every person celebrating him, a mage from Tevinter, Kelasi trying to shy away from all of the attention. He wanted to remember the delicious foods, and the feeling of bettering the world, even if it might not be permanent. Both of them were antsy for time alone,

 

    As soon as he shut the door, Krem pinned him against the wall, kissing him hungrily. Dorian kissed back, groaning when Krem picked him up, wrapping Dorian’s legs around his waist. They tumbled to the bed, Dorian trying to remain on top for a moment. Only a moment, because Krem flipped him easily, pinning him and grinding against his cock. It twitched when he realized Krem had a bulge of his own grinding against him. It was warm, which surprised him more. Krem pulled back slightly. Dorian couldn’t see him in the dark, but he could feel Krem’s hesitation.

 

    “Do you like it? I went to the glass shop to get it made… And then Dagna found out about it and put a rune on it that will keep it warm. It’s not too much, is it?” Krem asked him, tension in his voice. Dorian reached his hand down to stroke it in reply. Krem shuddered and leaned forward into him. “There’s a small bit on the end pressed…” Krem’s voice trailed off when Dorian stroked harder, and Dorian couldn’t help but smile.

 

    “Pressed where, love?” Dorian asked. He pulled Krem down, running his hand down to the base of Krem’s cock. He pushed, gently, and Krem fell on top of him. Even better. Dorian contented himself with playing with it for a while, enjoying the variety of noises coming out of Krem’s mouth. Krem kissed him hungrily, grinding against Dorian.

 

    “Pressed against what’s attached,” Krem told him, though by then Dorian forgot what he had asked. It was admirable of Krem to keep trying, even if it took him quite a long time to gather his thoughts. “I wanted…” Krem took a deep breath as Dorian bit his neck. No need to make this easy on Krem. “I wanted to focus on you tonight, but it seems like you have other ideas.”

 

     “I have no problem with you wanting to focus on me, I just enjoy making it difficult for you.” Dorian pressed a small kiss against Krem’s mouth. “But what did you have in mind?”

 

    “I want to fuck you,” Krem replied, so quietly Dorian almost didn’t hear him.

 

    “That’s alright, I think we can do that.” Dorian slipped his hand inside Krem’s pants, comparing the width of Krem’s cock to his hand. It was smaller than quite a bit of what he’d taken in the past. “Have you ever done that before?” Dorian asked.

 

     “No, I haven’t… I’ve heard about it, but I haven’t done it,” Krem replied. He sounded shaky.

 

    “That’s alright. I just wanted to know where to start. So the first thing is that you be careful what you touch, because anything that’s been in my ass won’t be good for the parts you have, alright?” Dorian stroked Krem’s cheek. “It’s been a while since I’ve done anything, so it might take me a minute to get stretched out enough for you, and we’ll want some massage oil.” Krem’s cheek heated under his hand.

 

    “I put some in the room earlier. I hope that’s not too presumptuous, I just…” Krem trailed off, clearly waiting for Dorian to reprimand him. That would never happen, not for something like this.

 

    “That’s fine, I appreciate your fine planning skills. Would you like me face up or face down for this, amatus?” The term of endearment slipped out of Dorian’s mouth before he thought about it. It wasn’t a word that would get thrown about in Tevinter, so he flinched for a moment. Krem’s body language didn’t change. He seemed to be contemplating the question.

 

    “Face up, I think,” Krem replied. “Though we might want to get our clothes off first.”

 

    “Always with the practical suggestions, amatus,” Dorian told him. It felt so good to have that word roll off of us tongue, instead of stuffing it behind every bit of self control he had. He and Krem could last, and he could act like it. They stood up, disrobing. He could hear Krem grabbing the bottle of oil, and thought of something when Krem pressed against him when he felt Krem’s cock. “How does it stay on?” Dorian asked.

 

    “There’s a harness. There’s a small hole at the back for the bit that presses up against me,” Krem told him. Dorian stroked up and down Krem’s cock, running his hands up and down Krem’s thighs until he bumped into a strap. Krem flinched slightly, so he made a mental note to try and avoid them. Dorian guided them back to the bed, and they both laid down, settling around each other. Dorian slid his pillow under his ass, making a mental note to flip it over before he went to sleep.

 

    “Do you want to light something to see better, or are you enjoying the dark?” Dorian asked. Light would help with aim, but Dorian was never sure how comfortable Krem felt naked.

 

    “I like it dark, if that’s alright. It helps me feel more… Me,” Krem told him.

 

    “That’s fine, I don’t mind,” Dorian told him. “I wouldn’t ask your opinion if I was going to ignore it.” His cock was aching, and he was desperate to have Krem inside him. “Do you still want to?” Dorian asked, uncertainty in his voice. It still baffled him that Krem wanted him the way he did.

 

    “Yes, I’m just not sure where to start,” Krem replied.

 

    “Put some of the massage oil on your finger. It’s difficult to use too much, I promise, and it’ll help. Then just try to slip your finger inside me, and we’ll see how it goes. Do it slowly please, or it can hurt sometimes.” Dorian heard the noise of the oil leaving the bottle, sticky and unpleasant but still making his cock twitch. He felt Krem’s hand on his thigh, and guided it to his ass. “Just there amatus.” He couldn’t keep the need out of his voice, and he gasped when he felt Krem’s finger. Krem froze.

 

    “Are you alright?” Krem sounded anxious.

 

    “More than alright. That feels wonderful, amatus, keep going.” Dorian felt Krem slowly slide his finger in, and wiggling it around to get it deeper. After a point, he couldn't help humping back into Krem’s hand. He could feel his cock dripping, leaving a sticky spot on his stomach. Krem would run his other hand over it occasionally, gripping the head of his cock. He was determined to wait to cum until Krem did, but he wasn’t sure how well he could make it. “You can add another,” Dorian told him. He was nearly panting in desperation.

 

    “Alright,” Krem told him, managing to sound smug with only one word. He didn’t really care. He just wanted Krem in him, wanted Krem to cum and then he could cum. It was his entire focus, through the addition of more oil, Krem slipping his fingers out, and sliding in another. Krem was getting more bold, keeping his movements careful, but exploring.

 

    His cock wouldn’t stop twitching, and sometimes he would arch into Krem’s hand. A thought crossed his mind, and he adjusted so that he could stroke Krem’s cock at the same time. He was rewarded when Krem’s fingers stuttered inside him, and Krem moaned. It took less time for two fingers to feel comfortable and loose than for the first.

 

    “One more, and then I should be ready for you, amatus,” Dorian told Krem. The second between Krem sliding his fingers out to oil them and replacing them was agony. He felt so hollow, his ass clenching around something that wasn’t there any more. He whined in sheer desperation. A hand pet his thigh, and he forced himself to relax for Krem’s fingers. After a moment, he was loose enough that Krem could thrust again, and he felt himself rocking. He was lost in the sensation, enjoying his cock straining and lust making his brain quiet for once.

 

    “Do you think you are ready for me?” Krem asked. Dorian moaned, and rocked harder.

 

    “Please,” Dorian begged.

 

    “Alright.” Krem paused for a moment. “I might need your help to aim.” Krem was quiet, shame creeping into his tone.  

 

    “That’s okay, most people do. Here, sit between my legs, on your knees. Then you can stretch one hand forward, to put near my shoulders, and guide yourself in with the other. You’ll be on top of me.” Dorian wiggled slightly, moving a hand down to press the head of Krem’s cock against his ass. “You can lean your hips in now,” he told Krem, and Krem shifted forward. There was a short moment of uncomfortable pressure before the head was all the way, and then he rocked into it. Krem fell on top of him, hips rocking in small motions he didn’t think Krem was aware of.

 

    He rocked back, and Krem let out a desperate moan, moving faster against Dorian. Dorian shifted to let him, trying not to lose his mind entirely to lust. He cradled Krem’s ass in his hands, helping him move faster, shifting to let Krem deeper. Krem’s chest pressed into his, and Krem bit his neck hard. Between his ass and his neck, he came, smearing it between him and Krem. Krem didn’t stop thrusting, whining desperately.

 

    His rocking changed into a more up and down motion, which made Dorian wonder. He slid a hand down between them, resting his other hand on Krem’s ass to encourage him to keep thrusting. He pushed on the base of Krem’s cock, and Krem gasped and rocked faster. It didn’t take long for Krem’s thrusts to wind down, and for him to collapse on top of Dorian. They were both sticky with sweat, and the room had the musky scent of sex.

 

    “I’m glad that was good for you too, amatus,” Dorian told Krem. “Let’s get you out of me, and get everything cleaned up, alright? Is it okay if we light the lamp now?” Krem nodded against him. “Alright, go ahead and pull out.” Krem nodded again, flopping to the side of the bed.

 

    “I had some water brought up here too, and some soap. You can’t see it right now, but there’s a bucket in the corner. I figured…” Krem hesitated. “I figured we might need it.”

 

    “I will never mind you preparing. Worst case scenario, we wouldn’t have to go far to wash in the morning.” Dorian felt his way over to the lamp, pressing the flint that would light the wick. Dim light spread over the room, and he smiled to see Krem looking so content and exhausted. Krem’s cock was  beautiful, clear with a slight orange glow to it, the harness made out of undyed leather. Dorian picked up the bucket and moved it over to the bed, soaping himself off. He shivered a little in the cold, then got the other towel for Krem. “Here you are,” Dorian told Krem, and Krem opened his eyes.

 

    “Thank you,” Krem told him before standing up. He slid the harness off of his body, setting it aside to wash himself. Afterwards, he cleaned off his cock and set it in a small box under the bed. He looked over the bed, investigating. “The good news is that we didn’t get much on the bed,” Krem told him with a glint in his eye. “The bad news is that it’s all over your pillow.”

 

    “I can turn it over,” Dorian said as he did just that and set it at the head of the bed. He looked over the bed, noticing a few drops of oil here and there. Krem slid into the usual loose clothes he liked to sleep in, and Dorian blew out the lamp before climbing into bed naked. “That was wonderful, amatus,” he told Krem. “Thank you.”

 

    “I think I should be thanking you, you walked me through it,” Krem told him. Krem curled around him, nestling his head into Dorian’s neck and tangling their legs together. He was full of good food, had spent the evening at a party with friends, and was in the arms of his love. It made him want to stay awake to enjoy it longer, but he was exhausted. He fell asleep, more content with his life than he’d ever been.


	22. Epilogue

    Corypheus was dead, and Dorian still didn’t feel like it was time to go home. There was so much to do here, between rifts, Venatori, and the ever shifting politics. That wasn’t entirely the reason, he knew. He and Krem were treated just like any other couple. He knew when Krem was wounded in combat, and they always got a room together, without needing to be asked. 

 

    Even if he didn’t have to marry a woman, he knew it wouldn’t be like this, and he wanted to hang on to it for as long as he could. Eventually, days turned into weeks, which turned into months, and eventually three years. He received a letter from a harried Tevinter courier. The roads were safe but the Inquisition  no doubt questioned him thoroughly before allowing him to pass. 

 

     Krem was working on drills and practice forms with his mace, while Dorian was seated at the desk, catching up on correspondence. It was a chore for Kelasi. She could read and write fairly well, writing was just laborious for her, especially when she needed to use the flowery language of nobility. The courier dropped off the letter, and Dorian tipped him extravagantly for the hassle. He always valued news from Tevinter, because it was so often rare. 

 

    The more he read of the letter, the more his heart sank. His father had died, with no warning. His mother suspected poisoning, and he knew he would need to return to Tevinter soon. His shoulders were shaking, and he didn’t realize why until his tears hit the page in front of him. Krem was by his side almost immediately, pulling him into a hug. 

 

    “What did it say?” Krem asked him. 

 

    “My father has died suddenly, probably due to poison or murder. I’m supposed to return to the Imperium as soon as I can to take over his seat. I… I know we’re expected to attend the Exalted Council with Orlais, and I can stay for it. That will give me enough time to make my farewells and prepare.” Dorian turned to look up at Krem. “I know how much the Chargers mean to you, and I don’t want to ask you to leave them, but it would mean the world to me if you would return with me to Tevinter.” 

 

    “Of course I will. Your want to change Tevinter is what drew me to you. I’ve loved living here as much as you have, which is why I haven’t been eager to go back, but I’m not going to leave you unguarded there. I know you have your own guards, but I can say for certain that I will never be bribed to turn on you, and I don’t know for certain about the others.” Krem was holding Dorian tightly, petting his head and letting him cry it out. 

 

    “Alright, I’m glad you’ll be with me. I… Will also need to try to investigate the cause of death. I know Alvina will be working on that already. There’s so much to consider.” Dorian felt weary and worn down. Some part of him felt like he should’ve been home sooner, to spend time with his father and possibly prevent this. While the other part realized that by building bonds with the Inquisition, he was creating allies and a more favorable impression of Tevinter. 

 

     “And don’t worry about planning the trip back. I can take care of that, while I gather funds and supplies together. Give yourself time to grieve, and I’ll help take care of the rest, alright?” Krem rubbed his back. “We’ll leave for the Council in a week, and I’ve got everything lined up. Just let me take care of the travel.” Dorian nodded, glad to have some of this shifted off of him.

 

**. . .**

 

    The Council passed in a blur. As usual, everything was more complicated than it needed to be. Qun’ari invaded, Solas came back to start drama, and all Dorian could think about was what it would feel like to get back to Tevinter. The good byes were harder than he expected, though it helped to hand Kelasi a speaking stone, and to know that he would be able to talk to her as often as he needed. She would help ground him, and her infallible moral compass would help him when he needed it most. 

 

    Everything turned out alright, though Kelasi decided to dissolve the Inquisition. She mourned the loss of her hand, and he gave her more speaking stones so that she could keep in touch with all of the people who were leaving now that there was no more Inquisition. He promised that he would look into devices that would still allow her to shoot her bow, and then he left. 

 

    His endurance had improved so much since he traveled to Redcliffe. He could keep up with Krem, and still do his share of setting up camp and breaking it down. The journey went faster, easier with all of the gold Kelasi pressed on them as they left. 

 

    Before he knew it, they made it to Tevinter, and he was back living in House Pavus. Alvina greeted him with intelligence information, he hugged his mother, and introduced Krem. She smiled at him, and made him feel welcome. It warmed him, even as he was still numb with grief for his father. His father’s study would need to become his, because it contained the far speaking device, as well as room enough for small conferences. It felt blasphemous to sit down at the desk and go through the papers that had been building up. 

 

    Krem came by to help, as well as give him the support he needed. It made the job easier, and he was so glad to have him there. It didn't fade with time, and he grew to appreciate Krem more was the years went by. It wasn’t perfect. He couldn’t bring Krem to events as his spouse, just his guard. But Krem was still there, with keen powers of observation and an ability to retrieve him when he felt over his head. 

 

    On the grounds of their house, everyone knew Krem was another master of the house, and treated him as such. They slept in the same bed, ate their meals together, and the servants would give him just as much respect as Dorian. Even Alvina, which surprised him a little. She was attached to the idea of him having heirs and using his power, but she was also delighted to see him happy. 

 

    His father had set things up so that he could still curry political favor, and have good standing with the Magisterium. It involved a slightly more complicated process of adopting heirs, and using trade agreements instead of marriages. It worked out well, and he felt like he was passing on the best of Alexius with his heirs. They were loved, intellectually stimulated, and taught to have drive. Krem had his own heirs of a sort, usually children who were at risk of being sold to pay off the debt of a parent. They took them in, because there was plenty enough to provide. 

 

    In name, they were slaves to the estate. They had to follow the archaic laws about the number of people enslaved in the household. In action, they were free. All of the slaves in the house were. They were their own people, they received wages, and they were allowed to retire with full salary if they chose. It meant that he had an entire force at his disposal to help keep him and his house safe, along with gather intelligence, because no one ever suspected slaves of being spies. Kelasi helped him with that, more than pleased to aid Tevinter in its own quest for order and improvement. 

 

    He did eventually figure out who poisoned his father, though bringing them to justice was another matter entirely. It was a house who stood against the progress of Tevinter. It took almost ten years, but he managed to split the house away from its power, and leave their ideas in the rubbish bin where they belonged. Little by little, Tevinter would change, and he and Krem would help it. Hard to believe that this was his life, all because he helped Krem that day. 


End file.
